The Kindred
by FogFrontier
Summary: The Goron and Zora are dead. The Emerald Warrior is a mere legend. Can Hyrule's fate reside in the hands of a mere scribe's assistant, in a time when even heroes cannot help? (Language and gore.)
1. Scripture

**The Kindred**

  
  
**Chapter I: Scripture  
  
**

_Author's Note: Zelda and any characters affiliated with it are a product of the Nintendo entertainment company. 2002, all rights reserved. (Sorry, legal jargon) My first Zelda fic, so go easy. My other story, King of Pawns, is currently sucking up most of my writing time, but surprisingly enough, this seems to be more popular. Please check it out  if you like this.  
_  
Skim stared out the single square window of his small home in Kakariko Village, and scratched something onto the piece of parchment on the desk in front of him. He stood up, pushing his wicker chair back, and set the quill down to fetch a lantern. The fading sunlight did not make ideal writing or drawing conditions, and a picture of a male Zora was not an easy task.  He had taken a rough sketch earlier with a homemade charcoal, and was reconstructing it in ink, and adding details.  

A close up of a glistening blue-green scale was in the bottom right corner, and several notes were scattered about the drawing.  They stated information on everything from major arteries to natural weapons.  Skim was very proud of his abilities as a scribe's assistant, and was one of the best of his class.  The man had barely a score of summers behind him, but had already become an assistant to the great scribe, Mantilulas. Skim had often reminded himself that he was blessed with a short, simple name, rather than the cumbersome, lavish title.  
  
Several decades ago, a mysterious warrior clad in a green tunic emerged from the Temple of Time. He fought his way through the re-deads of Hyrule Village, and purged the minions of Ganon from the land. Unfortunately, when Ganon was sealed away in the Shadow Realm, he apparently lost control over all the monsters in the kingdom. They began reproducing in unprecedented amounts, until even Deku Scrubs were a threat. Not only had the Emerald Warrior left, (He was called this by most, for few who still lived knew his true name) but the three golden triangles known as the Triforce were stolen as well, only a week before the refugees from Kakariko arrived to rebuild Hyrule Town.  
  
That was 30 years ago, and several new towns had appeared, and the empire had grown, despite the ever-growing monster population. The Emerald Warrior had disappeared, but that doesn't mean Hyrule was utterly defenseless. The Hylians had begun their own means of defending themselves, in the form of an army that far surpassed the few guards that used to inhabit Hyrule Town. Skim had applied for the role of assistant scribe at exactly the right time, for scribes were becoming ever more important. With the growing army, Hyrule desired more information on their enemies, and the other wild inhabitants of Hyrule.  
  
There were two kinds of scribes. There were the stereotype gray-whiskered, droopy-eye browed, old scribes that sat in libraries and choked their already decaying lungs on dust. They whiled away the hours doing math and scanning through volumes of forgotten tomes, searching for some sort of weakness in an enemy, or the key ingredient to a strength potion.  
  
And there were Skim's type of scribes. The kind who risked their lives to get close enough to a creature to draw a detailed sketch, then note behavior and attack patterns. They were the heart and soul of the intelligence of the Hylian army, but nobody knew that, or cared. Them and the wraiths. Wraiths were resurrected spirits infused with magic, giving them life. They were silent, powerful, and could cast devastating spells. The only problem with them is since they had life, they could die, and they hated scribes. Their hatred was probably because of the fact that scribes didn't get along with poes. And the poes are the only things keeping the wraiths from tearing the life from every human in Hyrule.  
  
A poe is a mischievous spirit, who sometimes will help humans for a bit of shade oil. poes all carry around lanterns, to ward off spirits that would take them back to the underworld.  Without them they are sucked back to death, and shade oil is the only thing in Hyrule that can fuel the lantern. Rumor has it that the only reason the army can afford poes and wraiths is because of the massive amount of shade oil buried under Hyrule castle. Of course, the poes don't know it's there, and if they ever found out. . . Well there wouldn't be much need for humans, would there?  However there was one Poe in particular that would not only become Skim's unexpected ally, but would also draw Hyrule into a war much larger than it could have ever prepared for.  
  
_P.S. Positive feedback = more chapters! Tell me how you like it._


	2. Rej

**The Kindred**

**Chapter II:  Rej**

Author's Note: Whee, second chapter.  this one is a lot longer, and a lot less confusing, I think.  Anyway, thanks for the feedback (Shark).  Its good to know there's at least one person who likes my stuff.  ^^  Hope you enjoy.  P.s, fixed some grammar troubles with the second and first chapters.

The faint glow of the lantern barely illuminated the entire parchment, but Dagger dared not move it closer for fear of burning the brittle paper.  He cocked his head sideways and examined his drawing.  The appraisal lasted several minutes, until Dagger decided the Zora's head was too large.  

He reached to the corner of the small oak desk and snatched up a small, brown, leather bag.  He untied the mock-silver string and took a pinch of the contents inside.  Using the bit of dust, he scraped out the ink of the head on the paper, and wiped a smear of paper-colored paint over the mistake.  

Skim leaned back and sighed deeply, peering out the window for any signs of activity while the paint dried.  He unconsciously tied the bag again, and watched a white blur shoot past the window of the house across the plaza.  As it went, the blur made a high-pitched squawking noise, and was followed shortly by a man in his nightgown wielding a large rake.  He too was making a high-pitched squawking noise, but his was more understandable.  

            "Get back here ye damn chicken!  I'll teach ye the eat muh corn!  I'll beat the dickens out of ye!  Argh!"

            His screaming was drowned out as the chicken clucked its frenzied response.  Skim chuckled to himself and was about to turn away when a third blur caught his eye.  Kitana, the chicken-raising woman, was also in her nightgown, and chasing the old man while letting out screams of protest.  She was in her early twenties, with long, curly, brown hair, that fell about her slender neck and pretty face in bouncy spirals.  She held the bottom of her gown above her ankles to prevent it from picking up moisture off the wet grass.  She stopped, panting, in front of Skim's house.  

            The twenty-year-old boy snatched a woolen green shirt off the foot of the bed, and threw it on as he ran outside.  Skim had short black hair, which he spiked regularly but always went back to being a spongy mass of hair by mid-day.  

            "I'll get it," He said quickly as he ran past Kitana.  Skim dashed after the old man and had passed him within seconds.  The bed-clothed man had tried to make a swipe at Skim with his rake while yelling, "Don't ye rescue that chicken!  I'll tan your hide!"

Skim ignored him and kept running.  The chicken was quite fast, and was flap-running at a good twenty miles an hour.  Half the town was awake now, and stood watching from their windows.  Skim knew there was no way he would catch the chicken this way, so he took a sharp left and leapt up the ridge to the spider house.  He jumped as high as he could and snatched the drainpipe that ran off the edge of the house's roof, and pulled himself up.  The drainpipe groaned under his hundred and sixty pounds, but held firm, if not for a small dent.  

As the chicken ran up the stairs leading to the spider house, Skim made the prediction that it would head left to avoid the fence.  He bolted right to cut it off, and just as he had expected, the chicken ran right below him.  Skim jumped off the roof and landed in front of the squawking bird, and snatched it up.  It flailed madly in his arms, scratching him with its claws and pecking madly at his face.  The boy ignored the scratches and calmly carried it back to Kitana, who had moved near the tree in the central plaza with the other villagers, to watch the procession.  Skim handed her the chicken and was about to walk away, mumbling something about bandages.  

It was at that moment the old man swung his rake and would have killed the chicken, now quiet in its owner's arms, had Skim not whirled and caught the tool by the handle.  The villagers glared reprimandingly at the old man, who sheepishly lowered his head and mumbled, "Damned bird was eatin mah corn."  

Kitana touched Skim's arm, and he let go of the rake, blushing.  He scratched the back of his neck and turned to leave, but Kitana spun him around and hugged him tightly.  The chicken, squashed between the two, began squawking madly once again, and Kitana quickly let go.  "Thanks Skim," she winked at him, and a general giggling cheer went up from the crowd.  Skim blushed again, nodded, and walked back to his house.  Behind him he could hear the old man's fat wife yelling at him, "You idjit!  That bird didn't eat the corn, YOU did!  You're just too old and stupit to remember!  Go on, get out of here, and go back to the house."

The Hylian assistant sat back in his wicker chair, and made the finishing touches on the repaired head before turning out the lantern.  He threw off his shirt and left it draped over the back of the chair, and crawled under the itchy wool blanket.  He let his head sink back into the down pillow, and fell asleep.  

He didn't sleep long, however, and was awakened by a sharp rapping at his shack's door.  A faint glow came from the steps to his door, obviously from a lantern.  Skim groaned, rolled out of bed, and made his way for the door.  He was only half awake when he opened the door, but what he saw startled him enough to wake him from the deepest sleep.  Standing in the doorway of his house was quite possibly the last thing in Hyrule he expected.  A poe.  

The ghost was black with wisps of smoke trailing from its bottom.  It was roughly the size of Dagger's upper torso, and perhaps twelve hands around.  Two pale golden eyes without pupils stared at him, waiting for him to say something.  When Dagger gave no response, the spirit whipped its lantern to shine in Dagger's face.  A single gloved hand supported the lantern, without an arm attached.  The other rested at the poe's side.  Most poes had a high, cackling laugh, and did so before they spoke, but no mirth echoed from the confines of the ghost's smoky body.  

"Skim?"  Came the voice.  It was surprisingly low for a poe, it sounded almost human.  Almost.  Then Skim realized it was not the poe that had spoke, it was a shadow on his roof.  The wraith dropped to land beside him, and snarled in his face.

"Are you the. . . _assistant_?"  

  
The thing would have spat, but it couldn't.  It made do with a disrespectful pause, and a sneer in its voice as it said the word.  Scribes often outranked wraiths in the Hylian Army's hierarchy, but an assistant was a different matter altogether.  

The wraith took further of his superior rank by interrupting Skim's response with a quiet snicker.  "If you ask me, they should feed all the scribes to the keese."

The poe had caught on by this point, and was giggling quietly, its lantern swaying as its whole body shook.  Skim was about to come back with a snappy retort, when the sound of footsteps caused all three of them to turn.  Kitana stood several feet away in her pajamas, arms crossed.  She cocked her head to one side, "What's up Ski?  Who're your friends?"  She used his nickname which he disliked, but let her call him because she thought it was "cute".

The shadowy wraith turned its head towards Kitana. "The _apprentice_," it stressed the word, "is due for a meeting."

If Skim had been watching the poe, he would have seen it roll its translucent green eyes, regardless of its lack of pupils.  Kitana put her hands on her hips and glanced at the wraith, "He may only be an apprentice, but just tonight he saved one of my chickens."  

The two ghosts slowly turned to face each other, tried to contain their laughter, and failed completely.  The poe let out its high-pitched chittering cackle, while the wraith's laugh sounded like stale air being released from a tomb in short bursts.

Skim lowered his head embarrassedly and mumbled quietly, "You're not really helping, Kit."  But Kitana was oblivious to his pleas.  The two spirits stopped laughing long enough for the wraith to gasp out, "I can see it now, the news will travel like Din's Fire."  The poe held its hands out, thumbs touching, resulting in a box with an open top.  "Assistant Scribe Saves Kakariko Chicken.  Parade Thursday in Hyrule Town."  Both ghosts went back to laughing, until Kitana interrupted them with a sharp response.

She pointed her finger an inch from the wraith's face.  "Listen here, you stupid ghost.  If it wasn't for scribes, the Hylians would never have found out poes could be manipulated with shade oil.  Which means they would never have been able to resurrect you losers."

"But he's just an assistant, not a full scribe," the wraith protested.

"But it's the assistants who do all the field work, therefore collecting the data."  Kitana smiled triumphantly while the other three blinked at her.  

"She's got a point, you know," the poe turned and said matter-of-factly to the seething wraith.

"Shut up!  Let me kill her!"

The wraith leapt at Kitana as razor-sharp claws flashed out of the shadow matter that served as hands.  The wraith whistled through the air at great speed, until it lurched to a halt in mid jump.  Its six-inch talons barely a hair's width from Kitana's face, it howled furiously at the poe controlling it.

"Damn you!  Let me go, cursed lantern-ghost!"

The glow of the poe's eyes and lantern dimmed a bit with the strain of controlling the frenzied wraith.  The ghost weakly smiled the poe equivalent of a smile, which is a blue glow from the lantern.  

"Sorry, he's very fast, and difficult to stop when he's angry."  Not that the poe cared at all for the lives of these humans, he was just obeying the contract.  If the wraith killed any humans, there would be no shade oil for that month's pay.

Kitana slowly backed away from the blades that threatened to cut her to bleeding chunks.  She ran straight into Skim, who didn't seem to notice until she put her hand in his.  Skim let Kitana's hand fall to her side, and approached the wraith, staring wide-eyed at the talons the entire time.  The assistant scribe touched one of the metal claws, and turned to the poe, who was absorbed in trying to shoo a moth away from its lantern.

"I wasn't aware wraiths came equipped with Goron Flowsteel Blades,"

The poe looked up briefly from its struggle with the moth.  It went back to fending off the winged menace as it spoke, "Oh, yes, I put those in for extra attack power.  Rather expensive however."  The ghost frantically swung its lantern, knocked the moth out of the air, and watched its spiraling descent to the wet grass.  Its lantern burned a triumphant blue-green, and it turned its full attention to the apprentice scribe.  

"Name's Skim," the assistant said, and extended one hand.  The ghost quickly transferred its lantern to its left glove, and shook with its right.  

"Rej." 


	3. The Siege

**The Kindred**

**Chapter III:  The Siege**

Author's Note: Yay!  I'm onto the third chapter.  I got some good reviews, so I've decided to continue this.  I WAS going to work on Pawn instead, but since that only has ONE review right now, I'm gonna do this!  But please check Pawn out, if you like this, you'll like it.  Also, be sure to check out the antics of SafetyMunkey and Aloh Dark on FF.Net, they are both very talented writers. Okay, this chapter is rather silly, as I thought the story could use a bit more comedy, but don't worry, plenty of bad-ass fighting in the next one.   Um, anyway, if I make this any longer it won't be a note anymore, so PEACE OUT YO!  (And please read Pawn.)

A tired sigh echoed down the dark, empty halls of Hyrule Castle.  The hollow, metallic sound of steel-reinforced boots on cold stone was the only break in the long silence that followed.  Pike was half-asleep, and more then half-bored, so he leaned heavily on his spear as he trudged down the hallway.  

Glancing up from his drooping eyelids, he saw something in front of him.  It was large, tall, flat, and made out of stone.  His brain took roughly twenty seconds to register the fact that it was a wall, and by that time he had walked into it, tipped over, and created a small pool of drool on the ground.  

When Pike figured out what he had just accomplished, he leaped to his feet and shook himself.  To prevent himself from dozing off, he decided to head to the courtyard, perhaps splash some fountain water on his face.  Of course, he didn't need to wake himself up after what happened next.

A fireball rocketed through one of the yawning stone arches to his right, and exploded a mere five feet from where he was standing.  The resulting force threw him five more feet back, and then skidded five more feet.  That's fifteen feet for you non-math type people.  In through the arch where the fireball had hit (fifteen feet from where Pike was now) swooped three large, green, reptilian creatures.  Each had in its claws a lizard-man, who was attached to the claws by a rough saddle. 

Pike didn't really have much time to wonder why the reptilians weren't ON the drakes as opposed to under them, because one of them loosed an arrow that sunk several inches into the stone floor next to him.  The archer lizofos nocked another arrow to its bowstring, and leapt from the drake to the floor.  The other two did the same, and drew long sabers that glistened in the fading sunlight.  One of them watched the horizon, and the other two of them approached Pike, who was still lying stunned on the ground.  

One lizofos grunted something to the archer, who nodded and aimed its arrow at Pike's head.  Thinking quickly, the guard performed a backwards somersault.  Kind of.  He threw his legs over and behind his head, and attempted to pull himself up.  Unfortunately, he had worn the steel-reinforced boots today (to impress the ladies), however had forgotten to put them away after showing them off (the ladies weren't impressed).  And the thirty pounds that were his boots now had him pinned in a rather unfortunate position.  That is, with his rear end pointing at the enemy.  

The archer blinked and turned to its companion, who shrugged.  The lizofos with the bow turned back to Pike, lowered its bow, and scratched the back of its head.  Now, to the casual observer that scratch would have meant that the lizofos saw no point in wasting an arrow on a disabled enemy.  But of course, in the lizofos culture, it was an insult of great proportions, roughly equivalent to pointing and laughing at someone for several hours straight.

The reptile man was about to shoot Pike anyway, when the lizofos near the window screamed something incomprehensible (But was probably some sort of swear word that I shall not poison the minds of my readers with) before a feathery shape swooped in the window and knocked it to the ground several hundred feet below.  The archer turned and loosed its arrow at the griffon, but a metallic ring sent the barbed projectile rocketing back so fast it clipped the archer's head clean off its shoulders.  

Pike yelled something in protest (also a swear word) as the reptile fell to its knees, then forward onto his lap, spraying him with wet, green, blood.  Through the thick green mass coating his eyes, Pike watched a figure in full armor drop from the griffon and cut the third lizofos in half, with a sword that was bigger than the reptile.  A horizontal spatter of blood hit the wall, and the griffon-rider had already sheathed its sword before the lizofos realized it was missing three vital organs.  

The man walked over to Pike, who was spitting out green lifeblood and trying violently to get the horrid taste out of his mouth.  When the blood smattered guard finally saw the figure, his eyes widened in realization.  

"You. . . you're Razor!  The legendary griffon rider!  Lizardbane!"

The hero nodded, and raised an eyebrow.  "And you are?"  He was a deep baritone, clad in black armor with gold trim.  A shock of blonde hair fell onto the neck guard around his armor, which was barely big enough for his ridiculous amount of over-exaggerated muscles.  The mere appearance of him made many grown men crumble with fright, but those who had never heard of him generally giggled at how goofy he looked.  Of course, it usually cost them their lives, but that's what you get for giggling at a man with black armor with gold trim.

"You are?"  Razor repeated.

"In a very uncomfortable position, if you wouldn't mind helping?"

The legend extended his hand helpfully, which the guard grasped.  Lizardbane hoisted Pike up with one hand, and set him a bit too roughly on his feet.  The tired guard wasn't so tired anymore, now that he was drenched in sticky lizofos blood.  He smiled idiotically under the film of dried blood, and extended his hand.  Razor shook it carefully, and then examined his own hand that was now covered in slimy, green, guts.  He spun the guard around and wiped his hand clean on the back of the guard's shirt, then smiled heroically. 

"So, what exactly happened here?  I saw some drakes with lizofos flying this way, and thought there would be trouble."

"They just flew in and attacked, it was very odd.  They've never really been a problem before, since they live in small camps or clans.  I've never seen an organized force with squads and such."

"Really?  Then you might want to sound the alarm."

"Why?"

"Because there's several thousand on they're way here."

"Oh."

After the action had stopped, Pike's brain had gone back to being bored, and it took him several seconds to process the information.  The little men in his head were also tired though, and the general call went up that they needed a second helping of the same thing, were they to react correctly.  

"What?"

The legendary Lizardbane grabbed the weary by the shoulders and shook him violently, screaming.  "You idiot!  An army of lizards is coming to kill you all!  Sound the alarm!"

The men inside Pike's head were shouting and trying to orient themselves, while taking measures to stop the shaking.  "I told you swivel chairs with wheels were a bad idea!" one shouted,  "No, you said!  I love swivel chairs, you said!  You can SPIN AROUND ON THEM YOU SAID!  Well we're spinning now, aren't we!?"

"Shut up!  It's not my fault they had wheels on them!  I just thought they would swivel, not roll!"

"Well it's too late for that now, isn't it!" The head of engineering yelled over the noise.  "Try and bring the arms up to stop the shaking!"

Pike put his arms up and tried to steady himself, while saying in between gasps of breath, "O-kay-I'll-do-it-just-let-go-of-me!"

Razor smiled and nodded, "Good, now I'm off to fight the massive hordes of lizofos coming to destroy your castle.  Have a pleasant and productive day."

Inside Pike's head, the little men started piling the swivel chairs with wheels in the trash.  The product manager was immediately fired, and the new one started ordering chairs that wouldn't slide around.  The day would be a productive one indeed.


	4. Pools of Sticky Black Goo

**The Kindred**

**Chapter IV:  Pools of Sticky Black Goo**

Author's Note: I'm writing this on my dad's laptop on a crappy wooden table.  Blech.  I've been hand-writing Pawn and Kindred in my ex-science journal during this little vacation, (since I can rarely type on this expensive laptop, cause my dad is paranoid.)  Well, I'll try and put the next Pawn up as soon as I can, but until then, enjoy.  (Or at least pretend to, like everyone else.)

P.S.  Instead of reading my story, go read one of these:  

An Act to Remember, by Snowsilver.  She has LOTS of talent, and a knack for comedy.  It's the Festival of Time in Clock Town, and Link and his motley band of friends are just tryin' to get through it alive.  Whee.  Plenty of antics and harmless fun.  Don't miss it if you're a Zelda fan!

 Shadows of A Broken Life, by SafetyMunkey.  Very action-y, dark, and (even if unintentionally) funny!  A story about a rather scholarly demon's life in NYC, the exciting fight scenes, undead hunters, vampire chicks, and rival demons should keep you on your toes for the whole ride.  And it's one hell of a ride.  You rawk Cait!

Magi and Their Obsession with Cream Puffs, by Phantom Pheather.   This is an absolutely hilarious tale of a bumbling mage and his antics.  Oh boy.  Cool action scenes and witty writing.  It's better than mine, and now its formatted!   (Good job man.)

After The Scourge, by Nebel.  A post-apocalyptic story written from a cat's point of view.  Very Tolkein-esque, she has recreated society in cattish form, with her own system of measurement, speech patterns and naming rules.  The grammar is flawless and the descriptions are vivid and lifelike.  Easily the best story I've ever read on FF.net.  Unfortunately, there aren't many reviews.  Please read it!  It's absolutely terrific!

Also, anything by Aloh Dark is a great choice, as long as you're not a homophobe.  Hehe…  Heh.  Kay.  

Also, I thought I'd take this opportunity to show you how everyone's name is pronounced.  I know it's not hard, but I hate it when people say my character's names wrong.

Skim:  Like the milk.  Just how it looks.

Rej:  The j makes a juh sound, like in Jimmy.

Kitana:  (Kit-AH-nah)

Pike:  (Paik) Like the word 'eye'

P.S. to Nebel:  I redid the sentence structure in this chapter just for you, using the "Verbing, the subject verbed the subject" occasionally.  As opposed to, "The subject verbed the subject adjectively."  If you like this better, say so and I'll do it to the next chapter too.

Skim sat back on the yew bough mattress of his bed.  He leaned against the stone wall of his small home and calmly regarded the poe floating in his doorway.  

"You can come in, if you want."  

            The ghost bobbed once in agreement or thanks and entered the small hut, dragging the protesting wraith with him.  Kitana followed behind, keeping as far away as possible from the black wraith as she could.  Its gleaming flowsteel claws were still unsheathed, and it released a hollow growl when Kit walked by.

            Skim scratched his cheek, which was speckled with bits of hair that had grown in overnight.  "So, you don't seem to have too much of a problem with scribes, Rej.  Most poes seem to dislike us."

            Glancing up at Skim,  (it had been toying with its lantern again) the ghost spoke in a surprisingly average pitched voice.  It was low for a poe, (that rhymes ^___^) just a little lower than Skim's.  

            "I don't see why I should," it shrugged, "most poe don't bother with scribes because they're unable to provide shade oil, and some even consider them competition."

Shaking its lantern, it opened the hatch and poked a gloved finger inside.  Skim nodded and raised his chin to point at the lantern.  "What's wrong with it?"

The poe was still poking at the inside, and didn't look up as it spoke.  "Oh, just running low on oil, trying to make it last."

Nodding, the apprentice stood up, opening a drawer on the small wooden desk.  The desk was a very reliable one, and had countless ink stains on the surface.  There was a skinny, deep jagged hole in the top where Skim had jabbed a pen head into the wood in a fit of rage (Another apprentice scribe, Aiken, had beat him to the actual capture of a baby dodongo, and had conducted a study on it before Skim got the chance.).  

With all these battle wounds on the desk, having a drawer or two opened was no great problem.  It did slightly resent it, for the opening let in a cold draft, but it wasn't about to express its concerns to the owner.  Skim finished his business in the drawer quickly, and courteously shut it when he was finished.  

"Here," Skim tossed a small glass vial to Rej, who attempted to catch it.  Of course, his catching hand was still inside the lantern, and instead of catching it he smacked the vial straight back at Skim's head, who deftly caught it.  The scribe's assistant blinked at the poe, and tossed it back.  "Look, do you want this or not?"

"Yes, sorry," grumbling something about evil lanterns, Rej examined the vial.  The contents were roughly the color and consistency of pitch, but they gave off a faint blue glow, and the lantern-ghost recognized it as shade oil.  "Where'd you get this?"

Skim sat back down on the bed, and waved his hand towards the west, where most of Hyrule was.  "Oh, you know . . . around."

The poe raised an eyebrow.  

Smiling, the assistant stuck a thumb towards the castle.  "The treasurer didn't have enough on him for last month's pay, so it was either take it in raw materials or head to Tsarin Outpost.*"

*A brief history on the Tsarin Outpost:  The outpost was founded several years after what was known as the "Emerald Era," the period of time when the Warrior protected Hyrule.  It began as an observation post for the newly founded Hylian Army.  The army grew and grew, and far surpassed the meager scattering of guards that once was the excuse for defense.  

They began employing the undead spirits that inhabited the area and using them as destructive mages.  They were code-named P.O.E.s, Paranormal Offensive Experts.  Many field operations were successful with these mercenaries, but the Hylians found the P.O.E.s needed something to protect them while they cast their magic.  The resurrection of wraiths began, and the P.O.E.s found they could mentally dominate them.  The wraiths began serving as guards for the lantern-ghosts, and received a small share of the shade oil.  

The Tsarin Outpost grew from a small observations facility into a full-fledged training camp.  Soon merchants, farmers, and blacksmiths began flocking to it, and a new town was formed.  Miners expanded the Underneath to reach the small town, and trade flourished.  The town is still used as a training facility today.  (For more information on The Underneath, wait until Chapter V.)      

Bobbing once, the poe equivalent of a nod, Rej agreed quietly "Good choice."

"I want some," the wraith whined.

"No, its all mine."

"No fair!  Skim, tell him to give me some."

Skim put his hands on his hips.  "Honestly, you two sound like whiney skull kids.  Rej, share with your undead minion."

"Aw… fine." The lantern ghost a little of the oil into the wraith's outstretched claw.  The undead shadow gasped, and pointed an accusing talon at the lantern ghost.

"He got more than me!"

"Both of you shut up or you'll be nothing but a pile of sticky black goo and some flowsteel blades!"  Kit had an arrow nocked to her bow, and pointed at the wraith's head.  All went silent immediately.  The shadow lifted its hands above his head and wiggled its claws for added effect.  

"Ooh, an arrow.  Real scary."

"Real scary indeed," flicking a switch near the back of the arrow, the cucco farmer drew the weapon taut, and a blast of light enveloped the head.  Rej cackled and swooped over to Kitana to get a better view of the action.  The wraith was paralyzed with fear, or as close to fear as an undead creature can have, for the holy light was enough to severely wound it, perhaps even kill it.  It stared unblinkingly at the arrowhead that could easily be its doom.  Well, it didn't blink normally, but if it could it still wouldn't.  Not right now anyways.

"Kit," Skim said repremandingly.  She lowered the bow for a moment to look at him, and the wraith saw its chance.  Its talons flashed as it rushed the unprepared cucco farmer, and a glistening arc of blood spewed forth from her face.

It was out the door into the cold night before she could scream.  Skim rushed to Kit's side, who had her face turned away from him.  The poe had glanced up when he heard the farmer's cry.  

"I can't control him," The ghost said, "He must have found a way to break my hold."

"Then what now?"

"We have to kill him," there was an awkward pause, "Again."

Taking the bow and arrow from Kitana, the holy bolt still glowing brightly, Skim glanced around.  He was nowhere as proficient with a bow as the cucco farmer, but he had fired one several times before.  So it came as no surprise to anyone that when the wraith shot through the open window, talons grasping for his throat, he sent an arrow screaming through its molten blue eye socket.  

The force of the blow caused the wraith to perform a not-very-graceful spinning back flip in the air.  Had it been in an Olympic competition, (which occur every eight years in Hyrule, but they're called the Hylian Games) he would have scored an eight-point-six for performance, but lost several points on the landing.  It landed on its face.  The resulting explosion and flash of light had two effects.  They were rather standard effects for explosions as flashes of light, but exciting nonetheless.  

The first effect was Skim's beloved and precious wicker chair being set on fire.  The desk did not appreciate this, as the fire was rather uncomfortable, and it was having a bad day already what with its drawers being opened and such.  The second was the wraith melting.  Not quite as interesting as the first.

Rej waved his lantern and the fire turned a lovely shade of blue (The color you might want to paint your house) and went out.  Skim examined the remains of the wraith, which had been reduced to a pool of sticky black goo.  He picked up the glowing flowsteel claws and was about to put them in a drawer when the poe rushed towards him, waving his lantern frantically.

"Don't touch them!"

It was of course, too late.  The flowsteel dove into Skim's wrist and crawled up his arm, across his collarbone, and down his other arm.  Both hands glowed faint silver for a moment, then retained their normal color.  Skim examined his palms, and looked awkwardly at Rej.  The poe shrugged,

"The flowsteel is inside you now, and it won't be coming out any time soon.  It'll come out when it senses danger, and take an appropriate combat form.  Learn how to use it, and you might be promoted into special forces."

Skim did not want to be promoted into "special forces."  He wanted to be a field scribe, like his father.  Of course, the man had gone AWOL a few years ago, and had never returned.  It was suspected he was killed when researching a new species called Gobbits.

"I don't want to learn how to use these things."

"Well you're stuck with them now.  You break it, you buy it."

"They're not broken."  
  
            "Well tough.  You have them, they're yours.  They'll only come out when you're dead.  Lots of benefits though."

"Like what?"

Oh, enhanced skeleton durability, increased combat damage, all sorts of great things."

The conversation was interrupted by a small sob from Kitana.  Both had completely forgotten, and the apprentice gently touched her shoulder.

"Let me see, I might be able to help."

Turning her head to face Skim, she revealed three shallow gashes on the corner of her cheek.  They were bleeding quietly, and she winced as the assistant moved her head to get a better look.

"Well, they don't look too horrible, but he got you pretty good.  Its okay now, no more trouble.  Rej, know any magic that could help?"

The ghost blinked, "How about 'minor heal'?"

A nod.  "If you please."

The poe shook his lantern, which had turned a dark red, and a small blue beam shot out of the flame.  It passed over the damaged flesh, restoring it to its former beauty, save for three small scars.  Skim smiled,

"There, beautiful as ever."

Kitana looked up at him, "Really?"  
  


Skim edged away a little, "Uh, yeah, really."  A nervous laugh from Skim.  Kitana yawned, and leaned her head against his arm.  Skim turned a pleasant shade of brick red, and slowly put his arm on her shoulder.  Rej broke the tension with a quiet, 

"I think it looks badass."

            The commander easily had more spit in his mouth than Pike had piss in his body.  Much of that spit was now on Pike's face and shirt at the moment, but the stoic guard endured the punishment.  The little men in his head were another story altogether.

            Perhaps the little men are due for an introduction.  After all, they function as the means of survival for a main character in the story, making them sub-main characters.  Perched on the back of his bolted-down swivel chair was Sight.  His vision was very impressive, and a pair of half-moon spectacles was perched on the end of his nose.  He didn't need to wear the glasses, but he had decided long ago they made him look more intelligent.  

            Intelligence was in short supply here, as the old Intelligence had fallen out Pike's left ear a couple years ago.  The new intelligence was Sight's pet dog, who didn't fit the bill to say the least.  Elbiced and Amora were staring at the small computer screens that had views from various parts of the body.  Elbiced had extremely good hearing, and rather enjoyed classical music and Frisbee.  Amora had (you guessed it) acute smelling, and baked cookies and brownies on a regular basis (which Taste snapped up before anyone could even look at them).  

            The new head management leaned back in his huge black recliner and snatched a cookie from his personal tray.  The lead engineer dashed through the automatic sliding glass doors that lead into the head.  

"Sir, we ate some bad meat this morning!  Its bacteria level is unbearably high!"

The product manager turned to face him, "Damn, can we fight it with WBCs?"

"No sir, we'll have to flush it."

"Very well."

"Sir, our eyes are covered in saliva!  It's crawling with type Ds!"  Sight interrupted.  

"Right, get some WBCs out there, stat.  I want this whole place spic and span in five!  Full flush, right away!"

"Sir," the engineer protested, "Shouldn't we check with Intelligence to see if it's safe?"

Laughing, the manager quickly glowered at the dog, Intelligence, who was growling ferociously as it chewed on a small metal object that looked as though it might explode at any given moment.  

"Safe?  That dog wouldn't know Safe if she walked up and kicked him in the face while wearing a nametag that said, "Hello, my name is Safe," and screaming "I'm Safe!  My name is Safe!  I'm Safe I'm Safe I'm Safe!"

            All the little people in the head stared at the manager, blinking quietly.  Even the sound of Int's frenzied chewing had stopped, and the dog now glanced at Manager, its head cocked to the side.  Elbiced coughed politely to break the silence, then coughed again when no one spoke.  All this coughing had put a frog in his throat, and he was about to cough a third time when the manager stood up quickly.

            Now, Manager had expected the chair to tip backwards and fall over, like in movies.  Unfortunately, he had forgotten it was bolted to the floor.  The result was banging his knee against the corner of his mahogany desk, and instead of a "So, let's get to work!" there was an ear-splitting, "Lek`Tari!"  (Which is a very inappropriate word indeed.)

The commander blinked as the echo faded off into the distance.  "What the hell was that?  Did you say something?"

Pike shook his head.

Once everything had calmed down, and Manager had been fitted with a crutch and a leg brace, business began proceeding as usual.  

            "Sir, the meat is still there, and the stomach WBCs can't hold for long."  Engineering reminded him.

Somewhere near the bottom of Pike's spinal cord, someone pressed a big red button.  

Pike lost his breakfast (Some odd looking meat) about the same time the commander stood up to point out the window.  The officer's face turned a shade of red slightly darker than that of a beet.  Pike had just removed a hanky from his pocket, and was wiping his mouth clean when the commander began screaming, a large vein pulsing on his forehead.

"Sir, your blood pressure," reminded Pike dutifully.  The officer ignored the warning, and managed to throw a griffon-shaped paperweight, six pencils, a dagger he stabbed into maps for dramatic effect, and his swivel chair at Pike's head before he could reach the door.  The sheet of bubble glass on the door exploded as the swivel chair burst through it and skidded down the hallway.

Sitting against the wooden door, Pike took a few deep breaths.  After a few minutes without low curses and horrible crashing and smashing sounds from inside the room, Pike chanced a peek around the door.  The commander had calmed down, and was counting quietly to himself.  Pike quietly closed the door and inched away on his rear end, carefully pushing shards of glass out of his way.

Pike has scooted almost halfway down the hall on his bottom when the commander called from his room, "Why don't you grab my swivel chair and get back in here so we can finish the debriefing."  The commander was a reasonable man.  When he wasn't screaming his head off and throwing griffon-shaped paperweights at your head.

Pike began speaking about the recommended scribe assistants for various jobs, and when they were available.  Of course there was one in particular who would affect the outcome of the war more than they had ever imagined.

End Chapter.

Did you see that?  I started putting End Chapter at the ends of chapters, so you can tell when the chapter ends.  I'm such a great guy.  Um, so that's it for chapter IV.  There's a lot going on next chapter, and a lot of information to absorb, but I'll try to break it up with some comedy/action scenes with Razor.  

_Yeah, thanks for the reviews everyone!!  Now go read those stories I told you to, god dammit!  They're good and stuff._


	5. A Lot to Take In 'Notebooks and Pencil...

**The Kindred**

**Chapter V:  A Lot to Take In**

Author's Note: Hey, I kept the stories that are better than mine, but added a few.  Go read them too.  To everyone who has written one of these stories, DO MORE!  And keep up the excellent work.

An Act to Remember, by Snowsilver.  She has LOTS of talent, and a knack for comedy.  It's the Festival of Time in Clock Town, and Link and his motley band of friends are just tryin' to get through it alive.  Whee.  Plenty of antics and harmless fun.  Don't miss it if you're a Zelda fan!  (Plus most of her other stuff is good too.)

 Shadows of A Broken Life, by SafetyMunkey.  Very action-y, dark, and (even if unintentionally) funny!  A story about a rather scholarly demon's life in NYC, the exciting fight scenes, undead hunters, vampire chicks, and rival demons should keep you on your toes for the whole ride.  And it's one hell of a ride.  You rawk Cait!  P.S.  Put the revamped After The Storm up, I wanna read it.

Magi and Their Obsession with Cream Puffs, by Phantom Pheather.   This is an absolutely hilarious tale of a bumbling mage and his antics.  Oh boy.  Cool action scenes and witty writing.  It's better than mine, and now its formatted!   (Good job man.)

Also by Phantom is The Dark of Night.  This is an extremely cool action story with lots of dark style and black humor.  Check this out if you're a fantasy fan, or in the mood for something exciting, humorous, (In a dark, weird sort of way) and well written.  Battle scenes are definitely a highlight.

After The Scourge, by Nebel.  A post-apocalyptic story written from a cat's point of view.  Very Tolkein-esque, she has recreated society in cattish form, with her own system of measurement, speech patterns and naming rules.  The grammar is flawless and the descriptions are vivid and lifelike.  Easily the best story I've ever read on FF.net.  Unfortunately, there aren't many reviews.  Please read it!  It's absolutely terrific!  This is still the best story on FF.net EVER.

Also, anything by Aloh Dark is a great choice, as long as you're not a homophobe.  Hehe…  Heh.  Kay.

Oh oh oh.  Also, if you find any really good stories, please recommend them to me.

P.S.  This chapter has a LOT of info in it.  LOTS LOTS LOTS!  You might need to re-read it, because it's ALL imperative to understanding the story.  So please make sure you understand when you're finished.  Also, I use Ohm (Pronounced Ahm or Omm) slang in this chapter; so if you get confused, check out the vocabulary chapter in Wanderer's Guide.  ^^ Enjoy.

The commander had put on a fresh uniform, perfectly pressed and identical to the last.  It even had matching medals.  (Pike guessed he had dozens of them.)  The guard passed the officer a thin set of papers, and reiterated what he had said earlier.  

"Right, now we have three major problems that all seem to have come up at once."

The commander nodded, "Which are?"

Pike took a deep breath, "Well, the first is the lizafos army to the north, over the mountains.  Apparently they've been massing troops there.  Several scout parties have attacked the castle, but nothing serious.  LizardBane is fighting off any more airborne attacks."

"What kind of enemy units are we talking about?"

"We've got several field scribes and assistants out there with poe and wraith guards.  Here's a report on the standard unit, a lizafos."

The commander examined the parchment, and Pike passed him another one.

"Dinofos are more advanced.  They use heavier weaponry and armor, but are just as fast and even more vicious.  More than a match for one of our standard infantry."

"A ratio?"

"Two guards to three lizafos, and three guards to two dinofos," he said, passing the commander two more reports, "These are drakes and Gobbits.  The drakes are a larger airborne version of the dinofos; they serve as hit-and-run fighters and transports.  Some have fire-breathing capabilities."

The commander nodded and gestured to the scroll with a short, green humanoid depicted on it.  "Looks like one of the Kokiri kids gone bad."

"Gobbit," Pike read, "Serve mostly as manual labor, but some are trained as assassins and rogues."

"Rogues?" The commander cocked an eyebrow.

"Nice word for thieves."  

The commander grunted, and Pike gestured vaguely, waving a hand in little circles.  

"And of course your smattering of moblin mercenaries and crazy deku scrubs.  You know."

Pikes commanding officer shoved all the files into an overstuffed drawer, and folded his hands, his elbows on the desk.  He rested his chin on the ensemble, "Problem two?"

"Several new strains of dodongo have appeared on Death Mountain."

The commander didn't look surprised, "Is that bad?"

"Well, it's strange.  There are several new varieties, including small fast ones, cold-breath ones, dodongos with big claws, all sorts.  Probably the most dangerous are the 'Shadongos.' " Pike chuckled.  

"What's funny?"

"Oh, I made that name up myself.  Shadongos, I love it."

"I hate it."

"Me too," Pike coughed.  "Anyway, the Shadongos can disappear and appear seemingly at will."

"Ick."

"You said it.  We've got an S.A. that's going to work on it, but he has to get here to get debriefed, then go back.  Then he can collect info."

"Okay, but just one S.A.?  Did he come recommended?"

Pike nodded.  "Mantilas… Manitulas…" he faltered.

"Mantilulas," The commander corrected him.

"Yeah, him.  He recommended the S.A."

"S.A.?"

"Scribe's assistant," Pike offered.

"Ah."

"Right.  Third Problem.  This one's classification level nine.  It does not leave this room," Pike slapped a thin folder down on the table.  A pair of scribe's parchments slid out, one of them depicting a short, pale-skinned hunchback.  One scroll had a large question mark where the picture should be.

"What's this?" The bald officer tapped the question mark.  

"Oh, that's a Scythe.  It's what the townspeople call them anyway.  Don't have much info on appearance or damage rating, other than that they carry a huge scythe and are extremely powerful.  Supposedly able to cast spells."

"What town is calling them that?"

Pike shuffled through his papers for a moment, "Uh, I think the outpost.  Yes, Tsarin Outpost.  It uh, its been evacuated… kind of."

"Kind of?"

"Well… its complicated."

  
"It always is."

"Alright, you know the Underneath?"

"A small network of tunnels that was used by Ganondorf to transport monsters and supplies.  Stals were used because they could burrow through the rock and emerge anywhere the Underneath could reach.  It's now used as a trade route."

"Right, but stalchild numbers have been increasing.  Nothing the guards can't handle, but yesterday a large amount of these weird hunchbacked things and a few scythes emerged from the Underneath, and attacked Tsarin.  The townspeople attempted to escape, but only a handful made it out alive."

"What about the guard?"

"Fortunately, Saria was visiting when they attacked, and she transported the entire training facility to Kenia."

"Saria?  The Kokiri Sage?"

"Yeh.  She was checking water pollution levels from octopod projectiles in the area.  Turns out they're nice and low, lower than we suspected."

"Well good for the fish.  But shouldn't that have been the Zora Sage's job?"

"I know not.  Am I my sage's keeper?"

"I suppose not," the commander leaned back in his chair and took a deep breath.

Rej glanced out the window at the dark of night.  

"We should probably get moving soon.  Don't want the town to get all worked up."

Skim was still sitting with his arm around Kit, who had fallen asleep.  He laid her head on the pillow and got up to stand next to the poe.  

"Yeah, think she'll be okay?"

"Nope, she'll die for sure," The lantern ghost mumbled.  Skim could have filled a large bucket with all the sarcasm dripping off that sentence.  Instead he glanced at the poe like he had two heads (which he didn't).  Rej cackled nervously for a few seconds, then stopped abruptly and looked sheepish.  (Or as close as is poe-ishly possible.)

Skim rolled his eyes and found a pack under his bed.  A loaf of stale bread, some dried beef, a water flask, a red potion, and several empty bottles went into the leather backpack.  

"Never know when you'll need a bottle," Skim responded to the poe's questioning look.

The lantern ghost glanced around the small hut, "Any weapons or armor?"

The scribe's assistant shrugged and shook his head.  He had never needed anything besides the standard-issue leather armor, and he didn't have that here.  It was in storage at the castle.

"Why would I?  And why would the castle send a poe and wraith just to get a scribe's apprentice?  Could they just send a messenger fairy or a letter?"

The poe swung its lantern nervously, and glanced out the window, "Um, there have been reports of dodongos moving closer to the town.  And you did come recommended."

The slightest trace of a smile crept across Skim's mouth.  Inside he was beaming.  He had come recommended.  It was probably because he found the perfectly preserved Zora in ice, when a live one hadn't been seen for over fifty years.  

He nodded, "I don't need any weapons, I have the flowsteel.  I can pick up my armor at the castle.  I did hear about the dodongos, and increased stalchild activity in the Field."

The lantern ghost nodded, "Shall we?"

Skim stared at Rej for a moment, anticipating more words.  After a moment, he said, "Shall we what?"

The poe sighed exasperatedly, "Shall we GO?"

Skim nodded quickly and pointed at the poe, "Oh go!  I've never heard that phrase before."

Kit stirred on the bed, hugged the pillow, and mumbled something.  Both groaned, and the cucco farmer sat up in Skim's bed.

"You can't go anywhere without me, Skim."

This was his chance to make her confess her love to him, he thought.  "And why is that?"

But the cucco farmer was prepared for this, "Because you're a big pansy," she said simply.  Rej cackled, and she continued.  "If you cried like a baby when that tiny little dodongo you were trying to get info on bit you, you're going to need someone to shoot it in half again."

Skim blinked, then scoffed indignantly.  "I did NOT cry like a baby!"

Kitana rolled her eyes and swung her legs to the side so they hung over the side of the bed.  She leapt off and headed for the door, "Be back in two winks, I need to gather some things."

(Author's Note to the Confused:  This is my attempt at helping you be lazy, so you don't have to be checking the vocab list constantly.  A wink is a measurement of time roughly equal to two and a half minutes.  There are thirty in a lapse.  There are eighteen lapses in an Ohmish day.  There, that wasn't so difficult, was it?)

She shut the door behind her in time not to hear Rej whisper a sharp reprimand.

"Relax," Skim responded to the protest.  "I never _said_ she was coming."

Rej cackled and swooped towards the door, his lantern clanking quietly.  "Right, let's go."

Skim nodded, grabbed a warm Kosc hide coat, slipped into some heavy leather boots, and snuck out the door with the poe.  His boots were weary with use, and made hardly any sound on the damp grass.  Rej, of course, made no noise moving as he just floated through the air.  The only audible sound was the soft clucking of the cuccos in their pen, and the quiet breathing of the pale-skinned man sitting against the huge tree in the center of town.

The lantern ghost blinked.  He had not noticed the pale Hylian on his way into the village.  He nudged Skim with his lantern, and the assistant protested quietly before he noticed where the ghost was pointing.

"Ouch, that thing's hot," he whispered.  "What's the problem?"

He followed the ghost's finger and let out a small sigh when he located its target.

  
"Oh, him.  That's Rekkan.  He's kind of," he paused, searching for the right word.

"Different?" The poe offered. 

"Sure.  He sleeps all day and sits there all night.  Same thing his grandfather did.  Both of them because they didn't get along with their parents, I think."

"What's his father?"

Skim scratched the beginnings of his beard, "A construction worker, I believe.  Same with his great grandfather."

The poe bobbed, as if he knew exactly what was wrong with construction workers these days.  It was at that moment Kit had decided to run up behind them.  She was dressed in a green cotton shirt, brown leather vest and tan, long cotton skirt.  She had put on a pair of just-under-knee-high boots as well.  

"Hey, I locked the cuccos in their cage and packed some octopod steaks."

The poe made a face, (he didn't like octopod) and Skim swore quietly before whispering to Rej, "Stix, she's back.  Do we take her with us?"

The poe shrugged, which wasn't easy to do for a ghost.  It consisted of raising his palms, "I guess."

Skim smiled slightly, "Okay.  Got your bow?"

Kit turned to him, (she had been looking sympathetically at Rekkan) and nodded.  She slung the weapon over her shoulder to rest against the quiver of assorted arrows.

They set off towards the stairs at the edge of town that lead to the field, Kitana giving the pale-skinned boy a friendly wave.  He smiled a little and waved back.  A Kodak moment.

"I can't believe you've never heard the phrase 'Shall we?' before," The poe glanced disbelievingly at Skim as they started down the steps.

"Nobody says it around here!" the apprentice protested.

"I say it."

"You don't count, you're dead," Skim poked the poe in the chest.

"I prefer the term 'reconstructed' thank you."

"You mean like hash browns?"

"That's reconstituted, you twit."

"Oh."

Kitana giggled as the lantern ghost rolled his eyes.  You couldn't tell of course, because of the lack of pupils.  But that's not the point.  It's the principle of the thing.

"So exactly how powerful are these enemies?"  The commander was shuffling through another stack of papers.  

"We estimate about a twelve to one ratio of guards to Scythes and a one to three for guards to the smaller gray hunchbacks."

"Twelve guards to one Scythe?  The things sound like bad news."

Pike nodded, "The only things we've got that can stand up to them are wraiths and griffon riders."

"What's our number on those?"

"Current wraith count is sixty-four, (sixty three now, but they don't know that) and we've got fifty griffons with trained riders at the moment."

"Hmm, standard units count?"

"Five hundred infantry garrisoned at the castle with four hundred elsewhere.  Three hundred archers with one-fifty elsewhere, and about two hundred cavalry spread throughout the kingdom."

"Good, recall half the cavalry.  Other special forces?"

Memory was trying to eat dinner at the moment, and didn't appreciate being interrupted.

"Seventy P.O.E. units and forty elemental mages.  We've also got twelve assassins, nine elite guards, twenty Armor Sentinels, and seven Iron Knuckles," Memory said around bites of food.

"Memory, don't talk with your mouth full," Etiquette reminded him. 

"Um, we have about seventy P.O.E. units and forty elemental mages.  We've also got twelve assassins, nine elite guards, twenty Armor Sentinels, and seven Iron Knuckles.  (That crap isn't important to the story, don't try to remember it.)"  Pike repeated automatically.  The commander nodded.

"Okay Pike, you're dismissed," The commander saluted sharply.  He was surprised this idiot could remember all that information.  Of course, photographic memory was one reason he had chosen Pike as his main source of information.

Pike followed suite, saluting and standing up, knocking over his chair in the process.  The commander held his face in his palms as the guard sheepishly set it back to its proper position.  He was almost out the door when a sharp intake of breath made him turn.  

"By the way," the commander said, "do we have a name for the gray-skinned things?"

Pike shuffled through his little stack of folders and papers until he came across a small notepad.  "Yeah, uh, they're called," there was a long pause as he searched for the proper information.  The commander raised an eyebrow as Pike glanced up quickly.  "They're called the Kindred."

End Chapter.

Ooh, spooky.  So now you know what the Kindred are.  I was planning on putting Razor Lizardbane and his griffon Anyala (That's An-yall-ah) in this chapter, but the scene's pretty long.  You'll have to wait till' next chapter, I guess.  And who knows how long that could take!  The scene's a humorous one anyway, and I wanted to try and end it on a dramatic note.  How'd I do?  You can e-mail Fog at d@therenegades.zzn.com (but please don't make fun of him).


	6. Drakes, Steaks, Bruises and Aches

The Kindred

**Chapter VI:  Drakes, Steaks, Bruises and Aches**

Author's note:  Man, I haven't uploaded this in FOREVER!  I hope none of you readers have stopped following, sorry if I lost your interest for a while, but ALL of my continuing stories are alive and well!  Here's the long-awaited sixth chapter, and I thought I'd start it off with some humor:

Razor Lizardbane was about to call it a night and guide his griffon mount back into the safety of Hyrule Castle when a high-pitched scream caught his ear, making him turn in the saddle.  

"Did you hear that, sidekick?"  He said in his most heroic voice, which was quite heroic indeed.

"Of course I heard it.  And I'm not your sidekick.  If I had it my way, I'd have fed you to these lizafos years ago."

"Now-now, mister grumpy pants!  I say we investigate.  That way, ho!"  The hero pointed north.

"What are you talking about?!"  The griffon screamed at him over the howling wind, turning her head around but still keeping her wings in a steady beat.  "The scream came from the opposite direction, I'm a girl, and I'm not wearing pants!"

"PANTS!"  The legendary Lizardbane unsheathed his sword and pointed it east.  Another shriek alerted the griffon, Anyala, of the drake's precise altitude and velocity.  She reached up with a clawed paw and gently pointed the sword south, in the direction of the drakes.

Anyala listened closely, blocking out Razor's incessant chanting (he was singing about Pez candies, to be precise) enough to judge there were three drakes, traveling at them quite fast, fifty or sixty feet above.  Her keen hearing proved her right when a trio of winged reptiles dropped out of the cloud layer some fifty feet above their current position, screaming their heads off.  Razor was now tossing and catching his sword in time to his singing and Anyala had a nearly irresistible urge to slap him, but refrained.  The blow would probably get them both killed, anyway.  Anyala began spiraling upwards with great beats of her eagle wings until the drakes noticed her presence, and dove.

Her element of surprise gone, the griffon decided to attempt a hasty counter-strategy, and use Razor to her advantage.

"Razor!  Bad guys!"  She yelled over her shoulder at her rider, making sure to use words with two syllables or less, so as not to confuse the hero.  

"Pez oh, pez oh, pez- huh?  Where?"  He stopped in mid-toss, his sword still in the air.  The drakes were extremely close now, and one was even farther ahead than the others.  Of course, the thing that makes a hero besides skill and experience was pure, sweet, dumb luck.  And Razor had enough luck to choke Jabu-Jabu four times over.

The drake and rider both somehow failed to see the glistening weapon, and the winged dodongo sub-breed managed to impale both itself and the lizafo archer it was carrying on the huge sword.  Both reptiles promptly began plummeting towards Hyrule Castle's moat with great speed.  Razor glanced around and stared at his palms, thinking he had accidentally done some kind of disappearing act with his sword (he had seen some strange people with blue hair do a very impressive magic show in Clock Town once).

A glint of steel caught his eye below them and he quickly recognized it as his weapon (smart guy, neh?).  "Dropped my sword," he said to his 'sidekick' and jumped off the griffon's back to retrieve it.  This would have been a very sensible thin to do, were they not two thousand feet in the air.  Anyala slapped a clawed lion's paw over her face and yelled after him,

"I hope you die!"

She groaned, allowed herself a small amused smile, folded her wings to her body, and dove to save the human she liked less than anything else (except really bad sunburns).

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It was still a few lapses until dawn, and the only light available was that of a lantern from certain poe.

"We're definitely an odd bunch," the certain poe remarked casually.

"How do you mean?" asked a certain scribe's apprentice.  (Apprentice is the same as assistant in this context, so I'll use both for variety's sake.)  

"Well," said the lantern-ghost, "look at us.  A scribe's assistant, a poe, and a cucco farmer."

"I thought we had agreed on this," a certain cucco farmer interjected.  "I get to be the archer, you're the lantern mage, and he's the flowsteel bladesman."

"Well we can hardly call him a 'bladesman'.  He's never even used them in battle."

"He has blades, doesn't he?  He's a man, isn't he?"

There was an awkward pause and both poe and cucco farmer turned an appraising eye on a certain scribe.  The certain farmer raised a certain eyebrow, (Oh, forget it.  You know who they are.)  waiting for a response.  

"Wha?  Yes I'm a man!"

Both farmer and poe cackled quietly.

"It's settled then.  You're a lantern mage," she said, pointing to the poe.

"I thought I got to be the wraith-watcher!"  Rej whined.

"And would you mind telling me exactly what wraith you are watching?"

Rej didn't respond, just sulked quietly and grumbled something unintelligible as Skim patted him on the 'back'.  Kit grinned, "Exactly.  Now what sorts of magic can you do?  Offensive, mostly, I take it?"

Squinting its incandescent, shimmering golden eyes as it peered closely at its lantern, the lantern-host waved a glove nonchalantly.  "I am quite skilled in most fields of magic, thank you.  Yes, I do have a specialty in offensive magic, but that also includes offensive _support_ magic."

"Elaborate."

"An example would be enchanting your arsenal of arrows with acid or fire, or giving Skim's flowsteel a boost in speed."

"Ah, but does that also cover defensive spells during combat, for instance, a reflex-time increase?"

"Well you see, that particular spell could also be used for attacking purposes-"

"Hey," Skim nudged Kit gently, who shushed him and went back to listening to the poe's explanation of his abilities.  "Listen, I think something's wrong."

"Why would you think that?"  The archer asked, turning to examine Skim's face.  The poe also whirled and glanced apprehensively at the apprentice.  Kitana unleashed a quiet gasp as the scribe's assistant held up his right forearm, the entirety of which had transformed into a rather large, shining blade.  Two smaller blades jutted out at the base, just below his elbow.  

Rej managed a weak "Oh," and held up his lantern a little higher, so that the circle of light almost reached the banks of a small river that ran nearby.  Kit quickly drew an arrow and notched it to her bowstring, drawing it back.  As before, she flicked a small mechanical switch near the fletching, unleashing the holy enchantment inside the projectile's head.  It lit an area no greater than Rej's lantern, but the poe shielded his eyes with an unoccupied glove nonetheless, uncomfortable near the holy light.  

The farmer let it whistle off into the night, and Skim threw up his hands helplessly.  "Great job, you just wasted a light arrow," Skim sighed.  The archer shook her head and held up a finger, to be rewarded a fraction of a second later with a sharp bone-crunching sound.  All three looked into the night to where the missile was stuck, in a stalchild's ribcage.

The skeleton unleashed an unearthly scream at the group, and several more erupted from the ground around it and behind the trio.  

"I thought they cleaned out the Underneath," Skim whispered.

"So did I."

Rej whipped his lantern around to look behind them and then brought it back to the front to face the larger amount of foes.  "I count six, but there could easily be another score beneath our feet, if the Underneath is truly infested."

"Some more light, please?"  Skim muttered to the poe.

Bobbing his agreement, the lantern-ghost waved his lantern, now glowing a determined maroon.  "Of course."  One of the stalchildren behind them exploded into flames, illuminating another, for a total of six skeletons and a now smoldering heap of bones.

Scanning the field was easy with the three light sources, and the scribe's assistant directed Kit with a complicated series of hand gestures, a requisite for all Hylian Army members that he had taught the farmer out of sheer boredom.  She nodded and drew another arrow, and the apprentice made a similar group of somatic movements to Rej, who complied with a few glove twists and a bob.  Skim much doubted the stalchildren could understand Common anyway, but it was best not to take any chances.  The makeshift conversation went as follows:

"Kit, take the two near the one you shot.  Rej, finish off the two near the smoldering corpse.  I'll attack the huge one to our left."

"Right, boss.  Break."

Rej cackled enthusiastically and swooped over to toy with the two nearest to the burning mound and Kitana nicked a standard hunting arrow to her bow.  Skim dashed off to the left, letting his large blade trail limply behind him.  One projectile screamed directly through the neck of an unfortunate stalchild, releasing it of the burden of its head at about the same time the lantern-ghost relieved a foe of its torso and one arm.  Skim approached the rather large skeleton, easily thrice as tall as he.  Its fists were as big as his head, and its mouth was fixed in a lifeless grin, with one side of the jaw hung limply, like a door falling loosely off its hinges.

The apprentice rolled to once side to avoid a downward strike.  His entire left arm from just below the shoulder joint had decided to become a vicious, rear-barbed whip, while his right had remained the blade.  He flung the whip around the legs of the skeleton and pulled with all his might.  Instead of just falling over however, the huge stalchild simply grabbed the coil with a bony fist and hoisted Skim into the air, leaving him helplessly suspended.  The assistant attempted a wild swing, missed, and was rewarded with a rock-hard fist to the gut.

As all the wind was pushed out of his lungs he saw Kit loose another arrow, the stalchild she was firing at now resembling a pincushion, as it had a good fifteen arrows in it.  It went down after the sixteenth.  Rej was having a little more difficulty with his second one, which was larger than the rest, but not nearly as huge as Skim's.  The ghost seemed to be holding his own, however, dancing in circles while loosing fire into the creature's face.

Skim was not faring so well, and managed a strangled "Help!" before a clawed limb tore into his shoulder.  Kit whirled to face the battling pair and loosed an arrow skimming past the apprentice's ear, nicking the flesh, into the huge stalchild's (more like a stal-adolescent, if you think about it) eye socket.  The scribe's assistant was given a precious few seconds to recover as the undead foe reared its head back and let out a mournful scream, a deathly howl that pierced Skim's bones with a chill colder than ice.

A sudden idea slammed itself into the apprentice's head along with the flailing stal-adolescent's torso, and he gave a mighty tug on his whip arm, propelling himself through the air above the skeleton's head.  He spun and landed with his legs around the stal-adolescent's neck, and the pair looked for all the world like a Termina man holding up his young son to see the Festival of Time's fireworks.

Of course, this son was viciously stabbing his father in the head with a huge sword in place of his arm, while yelling swearwords as he dodged his father's frantic blows.  After the fifth or sixth stab, Skim called out:  "Rej!  How sharp are these things?"  The apprentice held out his blade arm.

"Sharper than a goron's fingernail!"  Yelled the poe, and launched another fireball at his stalchild.  

Skim dodged another un-aimed blow from his enemy and, hoping that goron fingernails were rather sharp, ripped his whip hand from the bony grasp of the stal-adolescent and lashed it around the beast's neck.  The fleshless digits clattered to the ground as the assistant flipped off backwards and stabbed his blade into the skeleton's spine, his weight dragging it down as he fell.  The head popped off and the whip came free as Skim completed his descent, effectively cutting the undead menace into three neat pieces.  

Rej dispatched his enemy with a concentrated hail of earthen spires and the cucco farmer finished the headless stalchild that was wandering around, bumping into boulders and trees.  Several crystalline rupees were scattered about the battlefield, winking quietly in the light of the poe's lantern, and the three split up and began retrieving them.  With a wink and a half, they had collected a total of about three-dozen's worth, a heap of greens with a smattering of blues.

"Not bad," Skim examined the pile of greens and blues, "Almost a full month's pay."

"Why would 'stals' be carrying around rupees?"  Rej mused quietly.  

Kitana shrugged, "Maybe they're acting as mercenaries?"

The poe shook back and forth, waving the index finger of his unoccupied hand.  "No, they're too dumb.  Someone must have been giving them rupees, and directing that attack we just suffered.  Maybe to bait greedy merchants into attacking them?"

A nod from the scribe's assistant, "Yes, since they can use the Underneath, they could easily overwhelm just one person."

Kit had divided the money into piles, "Right, Rej gets fifteen, because he took two smalls and a medium.  I get twelve and you get nine."

  
"What?!  He's dead, he doesn't need rupees!"  The lantern-ghost bobbed in agreement, and the archer gave an indifferent shrug.

"Alright, we'll each get eighteen."

She passed two blues and some greens over to the eager scribe's assistant, who snatched them up, and put her own in her pouch.  Kitana glanced up and, seeing a dark stain on Skim's shoulder, looked more closely.  His shirt was torn and he winced as he put his share of the profits in a small hip bag.

"Skim, are you alright?"  The apprentice seemed to notice the look of sincere concern on the archer's face for the first time.  

"Yes, I just hurt my shoulder a bit," he removed his hand (both had returned to their normal state when the danger had gone, hence they knew there were no more skeletons in the Underneath) from his shoulder.  It was soaked in glistening blood, and a small dark stain was slowly spreading underneath the surrounding shirt, but the torn part revealed a deep gash and torn flesh.  Kitana's sharp intake of breath alerted Rej (who had been occupied with getting pieces of bone out of his lantern) of the problem.

"Does it hurt?"  She asked, taking her hand from her mouth for a moment.

The apprentice nodded and gave a brief, unexpected laugh.  "Tis' not so deep as a well, nor wide as a church door, but twill' suffice."

Kit rolled her bright eyes, "Alright Mister Dramatic, lay down and we'll get you patch up."  

(Fun Fact:  That was a quote from Romeo and Juliet, if you were curious.  Mercrutio says it just before he dies after the fight with Tybalt, and…  Ah, forget it.  It's a complicated scene.)

They located a large boulder to the northwest and leaned the wounded assistant against it.  Rej began putting fallen branches in a pile until he had enough for fuel for a small fire, then ignited it with a small blast from his lantern.  Kitana wrapped the apprentice in a woolen blanket with a marching deku scrub pattern around the border, and took bread and octopod steaks from the packs.  Soon a number of scrumptious octopod sandwiches had been prepared, and the cucco farmer approached Skim with a sandwich and bottle of murky red fluid.

As the assistand accepted the meat sandwich, a flurry of movement beyond Kitana's shoulder caught his eye.  It was Rej, his face twisted into a gruesome expression as he pointed to Skim's sandwich.  The poe took the pantomime a step further and clasped his gloves (the lantern-ghost's lantern was resting on the ground, near the fire) around where his neck would be, staggering around behind Kit.

The cucco farmer failed to notice any of this as she bandaged Skims shoulder, who was having great difficulty keeping himself from bursting into helpless laughter.  Once, Kitana glanced oddly at him as he released a quiet giggle, but the apprentice quickly turned into a cough.  The assistant was holding his sandwich in one hand, the bottle on the ground nearby.  Once he had the poe's attention, Skim took an overly-dramatic bite of his octopod sandwich.  

Rej's response was a horrified expression, (not easy to do when you have no facial features besides eyes) followed by his grand finale, which consisted of pretending to puke his guts out into the fire.  He noticed near the end of his performance that Kitana was watching disapprovingly, hands on her hips.

"I tried to warn you," Skim said around a mouthful of octopod.  He took another sip of the red potion to wash it down, and felt the healing effects soothe the icy fire creeping along his shoulder.  The drink had a sickly-sweet taste to it, like fruit that had been left to ripen on the tree for too long.

"Oh, shut up," pouted Rej.  Kit had forced him to try a sandwich as punishment for his 'childish antics', and most of it still sat unabsorbed (poes don't really eat, but they can absorb matter and convert it into small amounts of shade oil) in front of the sulking lantern-ghost.  The poe took another miserable bite of the sandwich and puckered his face up in disgust.

"Oh come now," Skim shoved the poe with his sandwich hand, (yes you can shove poes, how do you think Link whacked em' with his sword?) "octopod isn't _that_ bad."

"Blech, I hate it."

Kit was poking at the fire with a long, sturdy branch, when her poker exploded into flames and immediately caught the other's attention.  She screamed and flung the burning tree limb into the small river that flowed nearby, where it created a small cloud of steam and disintegrated.  The archer grinned sheepishly at the dumbfounded, awestricken looks she got from the two.  "Sorry, a bit of a pyromaniac."

"I'll say," scoffed the apprentice.  He was rewarded with a cucco down pillow in the face, and Kitana crawled into her sleeping bag as the poe floated nearer to the fire (as much to warm himself as to dispose of the sandwich).  Skim glanced up at the night sky, where the moon had already begun its descent.

"There's still a couple lapses until dawn, at least," he observed, glancing over at the cucco farmer.  "Tell me a story."

The farmer laughed, shrugging helplessly.  "I don't know any good ones."

"I do," said the poe, "anything to get my mind off that sandwich."  Both Hylians turned their attention towards the lantern-ghost, who began:

"It was a long time ago, when the emerald warrior still walked Hyrule.  The Gorons and Zora thrived, and the land was relatively peaceful.  The ancient tribe of Gerudo ruled the desert; the Zora controlled the waterways, rivers, and lakes, and the Gorons tended to Death Mountain.  The Gerudo didn't bother much of anyone and mostly kept to themselves, hidden away in their desert fortress.  Some thought they were guarding a great treasure or keeping some amazing secret, but they were just whispers and rumors.  

Occasionally, they would come into the main parts of Hyrule to barter weapons with the Gorons or trade with the Hylians, but they mostly kept to themselves.  But it was within this seemingly harmless tribe a monster was created.  Gerudo males are only born every two hundred years or so, making them a very rare commodity indeed.  He was raised in luxury and wealth, and trained in the combat the finest teachers in the land.  This is his story.  His name was Ganon."

Rej continued his story until the sun began creeping over the horizon behind them, and then decided to continue it another time.  (Author's Note:  I'll be writing a story called Terror's Legacy very soon, which of course, is Rej's tale.  Look for the first chapter within the week.)

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Anyala caught up with Razor rather quickly and grabbed him by the shoulder pads, when the large warrior looked up at her.

"Oh, hello Anyala.  I was just about to grab my sword," he pointed to the shining two-handed greatsword.

"You were _about_ to plummet into the moat, or worse, the ground," she corrected him primly.  The griffon dropped under Razor, caught him on her back, and grabbed the greatsword in her claws.  Handing the weapon up to the now battle-ready fighter, Anyala wheeled around to face the two remaining drakes, who were now a bit more reluctant in their charges.  One emitted a vicious scream nonetheless, and its rider launched an arrow in a high arc at the griffon.

By the time the missile reached the lion-eagle crossbreed, Razor had lined it up for a baseball swing and sent it rocketing back through the air twice as fast as it had come.  There was a dull 'clank' as it bounced off the lizafo's armor, leaving the reptile unhurt.  The creature was preparing another arrow when it realized something was missing.  Its quiver and bow were both there, as was its small dagger.  The lizafo didn't ever find what it was looking for, but from the smatter of guts on his drake's head, his companion could guess it was its torso.

Anyala had followed the arrow at almost the same speed Razor had hit it back, and clipped the reptile in the chest with a heavy paw, effectively blasting it apart.  The remaining lizafo with the blinded mount watched the body plummet to the soil below, its lower lip quivering fearfully.  The creature promptly turned and sped off back the way it came, while the remaining drake was dispatched with a few cuts from Razor's sword, the warrior narrating with "Chop, slash, attack!" the entire time.

Well, I hope that nice, long chapter satiated you for a little while!  Finally, things are heating up and we can get into the plot!  Yippee!  Uh, I'll try to upload Terror's Legacy once I get it all nice and error-free, so you can probably find it within a few days.  I have a new policy for reviews, and I'd really appreciate it if you can try it out:

A-hem, I do NOT want any sugar-coated reviews.  IF you do want to tell me what you think of this story, as with all my other stories, puh-leese tell me one or two or twelve things wrong with my writing.  I want to know how I can improve.  Flame away, if you wish, but make it comprehensible.

_Thanks for reading, and remember!  Three flaws!  Even spelang erors are fine, just find some stuff wrong with it!  Peace out!_

_-Fog._


	7. The Motley

The Kindred

**Chapter VII:  The Motley**

Author's note:  Finally, we can get this story underway.  After this chapter.  That's right, got through that introduction and onto the good stuff.  This should be a bit longer than the other ones, I think, but you never know.  Also, I switched back to normal time/distance measurements instead of the Ohm ones, since… this isn't in Ohm.  Ooh, Lupus is pronounced (LOOP-us).

Almost forgot:  Somebody asked me when Link was coming into the story, since after all, it IS a Zelda story.  I regret to inform you that Link is merely a legend in the time period this takes place in, and is referred to in the story as The Emerald Warrior.  The Kindred is set roughly half a century afterwards, hence the new towns and Hylian Army.  I hope that clears it up.  Anyway, we rejoin our crew as they make their way across the bridge of the small river, to finish the trek to Hyrule Town.

A trio of dark shapes approached the small wooden bridge, glancing about at the surrounding area for unexpected foes.  Finding none, the three companions made their way onto the rickety planks, but stopped when Skim noticed movement beyond the range of the poe's lantern.  His right arm had become the vicious blade again, and he crouched down, pulling Kitana with him.  The poe quickly covered his light with a conjured bit of shadowy cloth and floated near the two, watching and waiting.  An ear-splitting howl erupted from the darkness behind them, and Kitana dove out of the way just as a black, furry, canine figure leapt at the spot where she had just been.  

Unfortunately, the cucco farmer went over the side of the bridge and into the frigid water below, calling Skim into action.  "Rej, get her out of there!  Leave your lantern here, I need to see!"

The ghost was reluctant to leave his life force behind on the unsafe bridge, so he created a small globe of light with a wave of his hand and swooped off to help the flailing girl.  The flowsteel had transformed the Kakariko boy's left arm into a thin spike, with smaller ones protruding all over it.  He faced the obviously hostile creature in a crouched position, ready to lash out with a significantly-slower-than-lightning attack from one of the blades, but was met with silence.  The small light bobbed nearby, and followed him as he cautiously moved off the bridge.

Rej pulled the sopping archer out of the water just as he heard a sharp yelp from the bridge.  Thinking a stray dog had attacked them, the pair moved to where Skim was, expecting him to have scared the overly hungry mongrel off with the light or a light slap of his blade.  Instead, they found the 'flowsteel bladesman' glancing nervously about, searching for the source of the noise.

"Did you hear that?"  He asked.

"Yes, it wasn't you?"  Kitana said, searching the edges of the darkness.

"Of course not, I don't make high pitched yelping sounds," Skim sounded annoyed.

"I meant you didn't make whatever that was yelp," the cucco farmer sounded even more annoyed than Skim.  

"Oh, no."  There was another yelp, and the three dashed off along the length of the river to discover the source.  What they saw surprised them beyond the stalchildren in the Underneath or even Skim's acquirement of the flowsteel.  A tall woman stood over the corpse of a huge canine creature, pulling a large spear out of the body.  It was undoubtedly the same creature that attacked Kitana, but upon closer observation, the three found it was no stray dog.  It was a wolfos.

The woman was extremely tan, even in the flickering light of Rej's lantern.  She ripped the weapon out of the giant wolf, and then seemed to notice them for the first time.  "Who are you?  Are you the ones this creature attacked?"

"I suppose," said Skim, daring to get a closer look at the wolfos.  It was six feet long and three and a half feet at the shoulder, with luminous red eyes and a perpetual snarl, even in death.  Rej floated over to examine the woman.

"A Gerudo," the lantern-ghost observed quietly.  "What are you doing in this part of Hyrule, desert warrior?"

"I could ask you the same question, poe."

"I am a P.O.E. unit of the Hylian Army, sent to escort this field scribe and archer to the castle for briefing.  Let's hear your story."

The Gerudo snorted, but seemed impressed by Rej's ready answer.  Skim allowed himself a small smile at the thought of being a field scribe, and the sopping wet cucco farmer a professional archer.  "That was a Canis Malis I just killed, more commonly known as a Wolfos.  It's what I do."

"A hunter," Skim whispered with quiet respect, but the Gerudo's keen ears picked up his speech anyway.

"That's right.  I won't charge you this time for saving your butts, but next time it'll cost you."

"Really?"  Rej said, waggling a glove's finger at the hunter.  "And just why would we pay you for killing wolfos?  And why are there wolfos here, of all places?  And how did you just happen to show up at exactly the right moment, hmm?"  The barrage of questions caught the Gerudo off guard, so she answered slowly, considering each one.

"Because it was a joke, they make excellent scouts for the Lizafos, and because I could smell this huge monster from ten miles away."

Rej nodded, absorbing this.  "I see.  Who do we have the pleasure of having our butts saved by, might I ask?"

Bowing low to the ground, the Gerudo gave her spear an expert flourish before rising again.  "I am Lupus, Hunter of Wolves and Savior of the Helpless."

"For no less than fifty rupees."

"I usually charge at least seventy-five, but innocent children get a five percent discount."

"You are too kind," Rej mocked, his eyes becoming a bright turquoise, the equivalent of a grin.  Skim tilted his head as Kit rolled her eyes, and all of them appraised each other in silence for a few moments.

"Where are you all headed," the hunter asked.

"The castle, as I said, and from there to examine something around Death Mountain."

"Ah, yes.  You had mentioned that already.  Silly me.  I myself am heading to Hyrule Town, as there have been reports of increases in Wolfos numbers.  I suppose the lizafos are realizing their potential."

"Indeed.  I'm sure you'll find work there, but why not accompany us the rest of the way?  We won't be spending tomorrow night in the castle, that's for sure, as we'll get there just after midnight, I'd say.  We can drop by the Snoozing Peahat for a drink and a nights rest, and in return for paying for your room, you have to guard us the rest of the way there.  Our bladesman was injured by a rather large stalchild a few hours ago, and I don't think he's fit to do any more fighting for a while."

Lupus snorted.  Apparently, she didn't consider the small skeletons much of a challenge, but Skim didn't exactly have the years of combat experience she did.  "Your bladesman?"

"The scribe."

"He's both?"

"I'm a jack of all trades, one might say," Skim grinned.

"Very well, poe.  Your names?"

Rej introduced himself and the other two, giving a bit of background about their mission before blasting Kit with a heat wave to dry her off, leaving her auburn locks flying every which-way.  Lupus nodded to each member in turn, gave a bit of information about herself, then grabbed her pack nearby.  She tossed her light silvery hair back and shook it, letting it fall to her chin, then adjusted her short chain mail vest and khaki pants and stood, waiting for the others to adjust themselves.  

The following day passed relatively uneventfully except for a huge peahat chasing Skim four or five hundred yards off their course, for trying to pick fruit from a tree near its nest.  The apprentice scribe ended up with a back full of pointy spines, which Lupus removed and sucked the venom from, spitting it into one of the empty bottles for later 'use'.  Rej apparently enjoyed the spectacle of a helpless human tearing across an open field with a giant plant sporting helicopter-style blades chasing him at high speeds, because the lantern-ghost had made no move to help the poor assistant.  

They crossed under the huge iron portcullis just as the guards were about to close the drawbridge, and Rej directed them to a small inn at the corner of the plaza.  Creaking softly as it blew in the light breeze, a small wooden sign hung by iron chains depicted a comical artist's rendition of one of the huge, sentient plants, a trail of "z"s leading away from the sleeping vegetable.  The inn was quaint and small, but had a charming atmosphere to it, with a dozen small tables and as many rooms.  It was well priced and inexpensive, which was offset by the fact that the rooms leaked when it rained (it did) and the stew was too salty.  

Skim had been to Hyrule town many times before, and had stayed at this particular inn for several overnight trips, studying a native plant or animal.  As he sat at the small wooden table that had been reserved for their meal, he removed his quill, ink, charcoal and parchment and began to sketch a picture of the creature that had attacked him that afternoon.  Kitana watched him in silent fascination while the poe spoke to Lupus about his duties at the castle, and she recounted tales of fighting all manners of creatures.  She produced a small necklace from beneath her cotton undershirt and showed it to Rej, pointing out the individual trophies from the more impressive monsters she had killed.  The necklace contained a myriad of items, the most interesting including a wolfos tooth, a baby peahat's spine, a dodongo's scale, a dinofos' armor shard, and a bomb-chu fuse.  When the ghost asked her about the last item, she told him about how fortunate she had been when a lizafos tossed one at her, only for the unfortunate creature to realize (too late) that it was a dud, and how she had kept the fuse as a token to remember.

Skim finished the penciling and began to ink the monstrous plant, and now Rej started to glance over periodically to check on his progress.  It was a skillful picture, with the peahat tilted at an angle, its blades nicking pieces of grass under it.  It looked almost like a huge onion with a spinning set of swords under it, but everybody took the giant things seriously.  Skim included footnotes about the creature's only obvious weak spot, a secret which few knew and was apparently undiscovered until the Emerald Warrior found it with his trusty slingshot.  

The apprentice pushed away the mostly-eaten bowl of soup to curl up into a better position for inking, resting the hard wooden backing of the parchment against the edge of the table, blocking Kitana's view.  She followed suite, pushing her soup bowl away, and attempted futilely to get into a comfortable position.  Giving up, the cucco farmer rested her head on Skim's lap, who seemed not to notice until she sneezed, almost making him drag the quill across the paper.  Repeating an apology repeatedly until the apprentice was docile again, she watched him finished the piece of artwork and take a small ceramic pot and brush from his pack.  

Dipping the brush into the pot coated it with a thin layer of clear, gummy fluid, which, when Kitana inquired, the scribe's assistant informed her was octopod saliva.  It was used to hold together pebbles the octopod swallowed, which it could then spit out in concentrated projectiles at predators or potential prey.  He smeared it onto a peahat's spine and stuck the pointy weapon to the stiff parchment, completing his report.

"Maybe being attacked by random creatures isn't such a bad thing after all," he smiled, and Kitana laughed quietly.  Rej's eyes turned turquoise again, and Lupus smiled as she sipped the salty stew.  This piece was especially good, possibly his best yet, and would earn him at least thirty rupees.  It normally took much longer than tonight to create reports of creatures, but surrounded by friends in the cozy Snoozing Peahat made him feel more confident, especially Kitana, her head on his lap, watching him intently and faithfully.  She is the one person who truly believes in me, Skim thought, and just having her near made him feel stronger. 

They headed up to their rooms, Rej and Skim to one, Lupus and Kitana to another.  The apprentice threw his cotton shirt onto the bedpost with one hand, and was about to crawl under the woolen covers when the cucco farmer quietly entered the room.  She approached him silently, and smiled appraisingly at him.  Skim wasn't especially tall, tan, or muscular, but he had an inexplicable vigor and charisma that drew her to him.

"Um, Skim, I jus wanted to say," she trailed off, averting her gaze.  The assistant tilted his head for a moment, and then the archer grinned and wrapped her friend in a tight embrace.  "Thanks for taking me with you."

The apprentice scribe turned a pleasant brick red at the cheeks and smiled back, holding her with one hand.  "You're very welcome, Kitana.  But be careful with my shoulder please, it's not healed yet."

She blushed as well and picked up her nightgown around her heels, exiting as silently as she had entered.

"Whoo-hoo," Rej said quietly, his pupil-less eyes turning a laughing blue.

"Oh, shut up," Skim said, and crawled under his thin blankets.

"No, I'm serious, she seems like a really nice girl.  I'm glad we have her along."

"Yeah," the scribe's assistant stared up at the cracked plaster ceiling, finding shapes in the dents and valleys.  He found a group of cracks that looked suspiciously like a peahat chasing someone across a field, but the person only had one leg and the peahat was a bit too squarish.  Then again, plaster has never been known for it's artistic talent.  "I just hope nothing happens to her if this gets dangerous, you know?  What if we get assigned to study skultulas or something?  The last thing I want is for Kit to get hurt.  You and I can protect ourselves, and I know she's handy with a bow, but she's not built for combat.  Not even I'm built for combat, I mean look at me, I got my ass kicked by a stalchild."

"It was a big stalchild," Rej said, uncharacteristically supportive of the apprentice.  "You did your best.  Personally, I thought you were quite brave out there."

"You think so?"

"I do."

After a short pause, Skim turned in his bed to look at where the poe floated nearby, who was toying with his lantern, as he always did when nothing was happening.  "You will come with me back to Death Mountain, won't you?"

"I should think so.  I don't have a wraith anymore, so they'll probably make me stick with you and Kit until they get rid of the lizafos."

"Think the lizards will be a problem?"

"Not a big one, I heard Razor is in town."

"Razor Lizardbane?  The big warrior, from the faraway place?  Shouldn't have too many problems then, I think."

"Perhaps not.  I just hope it's over soon."

Skim rolled back to stare at the peahat chase scene on the ceiling again, and Rej wrapped the black cloth around his lantern, allowing the apprentice to get some sleep.

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"Why'd you decide to become a hunter, Lupus?"  Kit was curled up into an upright ball on her bed, painting her toenails with a small jar of red glaze-like dye she had bought at the bazaar a few weeks back.  Skim had tried to duplicate the effect with a mixture of strange, homemade ingredients and failed completely.  Luckily, his test subject was a cucco, and the poor bird merely had to suffer with red feet for a month, until the goop washed out.

"Because wolfos slaughtered my entire family while they were camping near the entrance to Termina, but I didn't want to go because I was studying magic at home," the Gerudo said bluntly.  

"Oh, I'm sorry…" she set down the brush and screwed the lid back on the jar, having finished her delicate work.

"Don't worry about it, it's behind me now.  I've gotten over it, and I think it made me a lot stronger.  You know what they say," the hunter glanced at the cucco farmer, waiting for her to finish the saying.

"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger?"  Kitana's response was more question than answer.

"You got it.  I guess you're not a ditzy little girl after all," the Gerudo smirked quietly at Kit's baffled glance.

"A what?!  You thought I was a ditz?!"

Holding up her hands to calm the Kakariko archer, Lupus smiled and put an arm around her.  "I thought that at first, because I thought only a foolish, desperate girl could be traveling with a wimpy scribe like that.  But I saw him work his magic in the common room, and I've seen how he looks at you.  That kid is more than he seems, I assure you."

"I am _not_ in love with Skim," Kitana assured the hunter.  "We are just good friends, nothing more.  I admit, you're right, however.  He really is special, and I couldn't believe he let me come with him on one of his adventures.  This is the first time he ever did."

Lupus raised an eyebrow in silent inquiry, and the archer reiterated.  "Being a scribe, he would always leave on big trips, sometimes being gone for a week or more, and would always come back with drawings of wondrous creatures and faraway places.  Meanwhile I was stuck at home, tending to the cuccos.  I love the cuccos, mind you; they're such sweet birds.  Yet, I always found my mind wandering elsewhere when I gave them their morning feed, pretending I was off with Skim on one of his adventures.  Tonight was the first time I ever saw him draw, you know."

"Ever?  How long have you known this scribe?"

"Almost ten years, half my life.  Isn't it strange, that he's never let me see him draw until now?  And the picture tonight was so much more realistic and incredible than all the others of his I've seen."

"It was very good, I'll grant him that.  Has he been a scribe all along?"

Kitana paused, thinking silently.  "He's not a scribe," she said.

"What?"

"He's an _assistant_.  Oh, please don't tell him I told you.  He's very proud of even being Mantilulas's assistant, and he doesn't take insults well.  Skim gets hurt if I even mention his father."

"What's wrong with his father?"

"He disappeared a few years ago.  Just when Skim was almost a full field scribe, like his father, Manen disappeared.  The only way poor Skim could have become a full scribe was if Manen had recommended him, but with his father's absence, he didn't have a chance.  He wants so much to be like the field scribe his father was, and he's just now getting over the loss.  So please don't say anything about this to him."

"My lips are sealed."

The cucco farmer sighed and leaned back on the pillow, letting her toes dry off before she got into bed.  The light patter of rain on the roof reminded her of Manen's finger drumming, which he used to do when he drew.  Kit and Skim would lean on their tiptoes to see the tall man's artwork, until he set them each on one knee so they could watch.  There was more than once incident where the young girl or boy sneezed or coughed, sending the scribe's pen spiraling across the paper, rendering the drawing worthless.  He never got mad about it, of course, and he laughed as he told them it was all right, that it was a bad piece anyway.  Nevertheless, Kitana could always see a glint of sadness in Manen's eyes whenever he threw a drawing away.  Gods, she missed that old man.

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Pike groaned and sat up in his small cot, supporting himself with his elbows.  Glancing around the room, he saw nothing, but something must have woken him.  None of the guards in Hyrule Castle woke without a good reason.  The small room appeared empty, however, and Pike was about to dismiss it as a bug when another sound caught his ear.  

There was a long, over-dramatic scream that grew in both intensity and volume, eventually leading up to a thundering splash outside Pike's moat-side room, ending the terrified crescendo.  Several drops of cold water stabbed the guard in the face as he peeked his head out the single square window that overlooked the ring of water.  There was another enormous, aquatic explosion and Pike caught sight of a trio of reptilian bodies before they drifted away to get caught in the iron grate at the end of the moat.  _The janitor's going to have a lot on his plate with those ones_ Pike thought as he walked back to the bed, shaking his head.  

He dressed in his standard clothes with armor plates scattered about his body, _normal_ leather boots, and staggered out into the hallway in a weary haze to find a half dozen guards clustered, talking in hushed, tired voices.  They smiled their greeting as Pike approached and one of them, a young fighter about Pike's age named Anik, waved to catch the guard's attention.

"Ho, Pike!  Come look at this!"

The still more-than-half-asleep guard slouched through the group of warriors to stare blearily up at the board.  It had lots of papers on it, this much he could discern.  If he looked more closely, Pike might have noticed there were letters on the papers as well, but a complicated move like that was about as simple as climbing an erupting Death Mountain naked.  So, Anik read the notice to him:  "Breakfast will not be served in the castle today, as the cook isn't feeling well and Draeb is away on business."

Pike unleashed a cry of infinite anguish and suffering, raising his hands to the sky and cursing the three gods.  Draeb was the assistant cook, a poe that had obtained a small amount of infamy simply for having a scruffy beard and getting the hairs in the soup.  It became customary for him to pluck one hair out and put it in the soup, and wear a net over it the rest of the time.  Whosoever got the hair in his soup received a piece of leftover birthday cake (there was always plenty left over from the commander's parties, since he hated chocolate, which was the only kind of cake Draeb could make).  

His mourning completed, the guard returned to his normal, dreary state, trudging towards the huge, iron gate that led out of the castle.  A surge of pride hit him as he exited the castle gates onto the brown dirt path that lead into the stone structure itself, due to the fact he had walked into a mere four walls on his way out, a new record for before noon.  The tired guard eventually found himself in the Snoozing Peahat, ordering a strong whiskey to wake himself up.  

He took two quick shots and found himself more awake than he had been in the past week, and Pike glanced alertly about, scanning the inn.  There were no truly unusual characters about, save for a man with spiky, black hair, who appeared to be a few years younger than himself.  There was a girl wearing a tan skirt and shirt with a large bow slung over her shoulder, a taller woman dressed in leather and steel armor, a spear that apparently belonged to her resting against the wall nearby.  A poe floated nearby, his lantern sitting on the table.  The lantern was intricately carved, a black steel design of twisting ivy and thorned branches curving around a tall glass hexagon with a metal base.  A small fireball floated in the middle, apparently unsupported by anything but magic.  

A flurry of possibilities raced through his trained mind, and he approached the table, putting the palm of his hand on his sword's pommel.  The group was apparently having breakfast, but the archer girl had fallen asleep again, her head resting on the man's shoulder.  The dark-haired Hylian was apparently unarmed, which only served to reinforce Pike's guess.

"You're the scribe, I assume?"  He inquired, balling his other hand into a fist and resting its knuckles on the hard wood of the table.

"Assume starts with 'ass' and ends with 'u' and 'me', who's asking?"  The poe said, its eyes flashing a curious and laughing azure.

"Be quiet, Rej," the man with spiked hair said, unsuccessfully concealing a smile.  "I am indeed a field scribe.  Or, hope to be.  I assume you're a Hyrule Castle guard, from your dress."

"Assume starts with me and ends with ass and… wait."  Pike stared at his fingers, apparently counting.  The party of adventurers exchanged worried glances at the effectiveness of the only people protecting Hyrule, but turned their attention back to the guard as he spoke again.  "Your name is Skim Anarith?"

"The one and only," the scribe's assistant said, spreading his hands wide.  He had apparently forgotten about Kit's head being on his shoulder, as it slowly slid off and landed with a sharp bang on the wooden table.  

"SON OF A BITCH!"  She yelled, sitting up and holding her forehead with both hands, immediately attracting the attention of everyone in the inn.  She blushed a quiet red and held up a hand with drooping fingers, than hid her face in the folds of Skim's sleeve.  There was worried mumbling and one pair of patrons paid and left, casting fearful glances at the party the entire time.

"Ah, sorry about that Kit," Skim tried to hide another smile as he checked the archer's forehead for damage.  "Yes, I am," he said, returning his gaze to Pike as he put a gentle arm around his friend's shoulders and patted her repeatedly.  "What can I do for you?"

"Right, you are to come with me to be briefed.  As soon as I share your breakfast, that is.  Is she going to eat the rest of hers?" he inquired, pointing to Kitana's plate.  His only answer was a string of grumbled swear word from the archer, and Skim shrugged, pushing the cucco farmer's plate over to the eager guard.

"How nice, an escort," the tall hunter sneered.  "I seek an audience with the King, is it possible today?  Or would you not know?"

Pike glanced up from his plate of unfinished, cold cucco eggs and spoke around a mouthful of food.  "Well," he said before swallowing, "I'm afraid you can't see the King today, he's quite busy.  But I could get you an audience with the commander, if you give me a meeting type and time."

"My reasons are my own, and as soon as possible."

"Wolfos hunting, eh?  I could fit you in around noon, I suppose."

  
"What are you, his personal secretary?"

"Yes."

The hunter looked baffled for a moment, then shrugged, turning to Skim.  "Well, thanks for the room and board, I suppose this is where we go our separate ways."

The scribe's assistant nodded quietly and smiled at the Gerudo, "I guess so.  See you around, perhaps."

"Perhaps," she gave a brief smirk and stood, gathered her pack and spear, and stalked silently out of the Snoozing Peahat.

There was only the sound of Kit's anguished moans as she rubbed her forehead and the clink of Pike's silverware for a few minutes, until the guard finished his meal.  "Right, shall we go?"

Rej glanced up from his lantern and shook it a few times, then closed the hatch.  "We shall.  Get Little Miss Potty Mouth and we'll leave."

"Your mother's a potty mouth," the archer grumbled aggressively as she leaned against Skim and stood up.  Rej cackled and swooped out of the inn, Kitana hot on her heels.  The apprentice sighed exasperatedly and stood up, dashing out of the inn yelling at them not to get lost in the morning crowd.

Fog:  Did that move too fast?  No?  Yes?  Thoughts, ideas, comments, insults?  I hope you liked it, cause we're gonna (pardon the cliché) get this show on the road!  Onward, HO!  Please remember my reviewing policy:  FIND SOMETHING WRONG WITH THIS CHAPTER (besides in the A/Ns, I know there's tons of stuff wrong with these.)


	8. Of Milk and Music

The Kindred

Chapter VIII:  Of Milk and Music

            Okay, here's the well-overdue chapter VIII.  Not much to say, but I have to add this disclaimer from now on:  

            The Legend of Zelda ™ and all characters affiliated with or related to are copyright of Nintendo ™ Corporation.  All rights reserved.

            Expect to see that a lot in the future, since a guy from ff.net e-mailed me about it.  Yeesh.  The last thing I need is to get deleted for copyright infringement.  If you are fan-fictioning something, I suggest you give the proper dues as well.  Apparently they're being more strict on that lately, or something.

            Pike only tripped eight times on the walk back to the castle.  It was a learning experience for Kitana and Skim, who had only been as far as the gates.  The guard seemed determined not to let them see princess Zelda, but after Rej calmly explained for the third time their _actual_ business, he offered to let them in for a small bribe.  The enraged poe smashed the fool over the head, filched his key ring, and put on his best butler impression as they entered.

            Numerous guards patrolled the grounds, none of whom seemed to take notice of them, or didn't care if they had.  Eventually the party came to the moat and main entrance, where Pike finally remembered to flash his identification badge to the guard.  He insisted on going back to the unconscious guard and showing him the badge as well, but they attempted to convince the stubborn guard that unconscious people can't see.  The argument rapidly deteriorated into the question of tofu cucco meat tasting like real cucco meat or not.  They stood in the yawning doorway arguing until the lantern-ghost threw up his gloves and proclaimed that it tastes real if you use real cucco stock to cook it in.

            Pike led them upstairs to a small office with shattered glass around the outside and a broken window panel, bearing part of an important looking title.  The weary guard sat the little group down and told them to wait while he fetched the commander.  There were several good-sized dents in the door, Skim observed after the guard had left, and one was shaped unmistakably like a griffon.  Kitana nudged him suddenly, sticking a thumb at the cluttered desk.

            "What's all this about?"

            "Dunno," the scribe's assistant said, glancing around at the surrounding walls for a clue.  "I'm supposed to researching a new species of something, I suppose.  Wonder what we're studying…" his voice trailed off as he searched the room for hints.

            "Well if anybody asks, I'm just your guard."

            Skim only nodded absently in response, and she couldn't even tell if he was listening.  They waited for a few minutes, letting the warmth and smells of salty stew from the kitchen waft up through miniscule cracks in the stone floor.  Finally, the apprentice scribe leapt up from his uncomfortable wooden swivel chair and headed for the door, only to crash headlong into the stack of folders Pike carried.  As if luck was taunting them, the apprentice's pouch opened up in mid-flight, spewing scribe reports everywhere and only increasing the mess.

            Repeating a rapid apology, Skim bent down and gathered up the reports, placing them back in his pouch and sitting down before the commander entered.

            "Who in the holy name of Tektite spit is that?" the bald man asked automatically as he walked inside, pointing to Kitana but looking at Pike.

            "She's a farmer-" the 'archer' shot Skim a dirty look, cutting him off.  "Guard."

            "She's a _what_ guard?"

            "A former guard, sir," Rej interrupted.  The apprentice cast him a thankful glance and turned back to the bristling commander.

            "My briefing?"

            "Right.  We're sorry to have called you this far and blah blah blah, so sorry for your troubles, and so on.  Two good reasons.  First of all, since you're going to be studying dodongo breeding patterns, you'll need this," the commander reached under his desk and tossed piece after piece of armor at the scribe, until the apprentice had assembled a nice pile of shiny, new, hardened, steel-reinforced, iron-studded leather armor.           

            "Why not metal?" the assistant asked.

            "Metal heats up quickly, you would melt," Rej explained.

"Ah.  Melting is certainly not one of the mission objectives, I take it?"

            "Not until you finish a full report of all dodongo types on Death Mountain," the tall bald man leaned back in his swivel chair in an attempt to look nonchalant, almost fell over backwards, and leaned forward again.  "We need all the information we can get if these new things turn out to be hostile."

            "Right.  When do we leave?"

            "Now.  Rej, Pike, and the archer will guard you with their lives."

            "Pike's coming?"

            "That's the second reason we called you out.  The blithering fool would get lost while still on the drawbridge, but he's handy with a sword and he almost seems to possess near-average intelligence at some things.  Your first extraction point is the Lon Lon Milk Factory.  The lizafos army to the north already has scouts and wolfos in Hyrule Field, so we asked Kalon to let you hole up there tonight.  You should be able to make it there by nightfall, if you hurry, and we may be able to send you additional reinforcements when you arrive."

            "More?  You'd think we were fighting an army," Rej snorted (or as close to snorting as is possible for a poe, so it came out as the sound a wild boar with a sore throat makes).

            "If the dodongos turn hostile on us, you might be."

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            The small group stood at the open gates of the castle town, attempting to evenly distribute the weight.  Rej was having trouble shouldering any of the military-issue backpacks, (he didn't have shoulders) and the scribe's assistant was virtually useless in the hard leather armor.  He ended up giving the cuirass and one shoulder guard to Kitana, as the bulky leather had a support strap over his wound.  She was a bit more of a fighter than Skim, and had a certain amount of experience in donning armor and the like.

            Soon, the motley had finished their preparations -though Pike was still not completely aware of what they were setting out to do- and Kit had loaded her quiver with an assortment of magically enchanted arrows.  Skim's portion of the stalchild loot had been lost to a pickpocket on the way to lunch, who quickly made off into the crowd.  The scribe's assistant hollered after him, calling the guards, but the child had already disappeared into the masses of people by the time an officer arrived.  

            The apprentice sighed heavily remembering the loss of hard-earned rupees, and Kitana laid a comforting hand on his shoulder.  The party was about to head out the towering stone gate when a town guard trotted up beside Skim, dangling a small struggling boy by the back of his collar.  "You're the one this little thief pick pocketed earlier, right?  Is this him?"

            Skim recognized the child immediately, from the mop of red hair to the pair of ragged burlap pants that were two sizes too large, and nodded in agreement.  Swearing fluently in another language as he found his attempts to obtain freedom in vain, the young boy waved his arms violently as far above his head as he could, trying in earnest to attack the guard's steel-plated arm.  Upon noticing the thief's rounded ears for apparently the first time, the guard shrugged and tossed the scoundrel at the group's feet.  "Must be a refugee from Volcania.  What'll you do with the little waif?"

            Volcania, not far to the north, was currently plunged headlong into a war with the lizafos army.  Refugees were not an uncommon sight in Hyrule Town, but most did not stay for long, instead preferring to move east to Termina.  There was an abundance of rumors that stated the lizafos planned to attack Hyrule next.  

            "I just want back the money he stole," Skim grumbled irately.  The guard tossed a small object to the apprentice, who barely managed to catch it before it smacked him in the nose.

            "I' is…" the Volcanian boy began, but stumbled over the next unknown word. The native language in Volcania is vastly different than the one used in Hyrule and Termina.  Most natives of the northern realm had a somewhat ridiculous sounding accent when speaking Hylian, which had become known as 'Nicking', after a somewhat famous Volcanian ship's captain who had particular difficulty with the secondary language.

            "Manauticus," the child looked expectantly up at Rej.

            "Magical," the lantern-ghost translated, though he sounded more than a little skeptical.

            "Maj'kul," the boy repeated, nodding approvingly.  Skim cast a confused look at the poe, who winked one reddish green eye at him.  Gazing down at the object in his hands, the apprentice scratched his head and looked at the child.

            "You spent all twenty-five rupees on _this_?"

            "Yup.  You kin' 'ave it, ah guess."

            "But I don't want i-"

            "Quit whining," reprimanded the impatient poe.  "Just take him with us and leave him at the ranch to work it off, and we'll go from there.  We need to leave now."

            The scribe's assistant released a tired sigh, pocketing the small gray ocarina and following his companions out the gates.  

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            "Eire," a deep, rumbling voice echoed throughout a deep underground cavern, causing a small shape to skitter close to the larger one.  Small pebbles tumbled from upper ledges at the vibrations caused by the sound, and the air was filled with the rank odor of dead Tektite meat.

            "Y-yes, your greatness?"

            "Take a half-dozen scouts and explore the perimeter, all the way to the river bridge."

            "Of c-course, your majesty.  When shall we leave?"

            "As soon as you can.  Avoid Hylian sight, if possible."

            "As you w-wish, Maw."

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            The sun was already setting behind the horizon as five figures with growing shadows shuffled under the entry arch of the Lon Lon Milk Factory, a revolution in steel working and production of the finest and only milk product in all of Hyrule.  The factory was relatively quiet, save for the sounds of pumping and churning pistons from a large steel building just right of the entry path.  To the left was a quaint little house and cucco coop, a blatant contrast to the metallic machinery just across the narrow dirt road.  Faint clucking noises emanated from the small cottage nearby, and the party approached the closed wooden door.

            Pushing the portal inwards with a quiet creak, Skim poked his head inside and looked around.  The coop and living area combination was quiet, the cuccos nestled comfortably in their hay.  The scribe's assistant, looking up, noticed an old stairway leading to another door, which was leaning open.  The apprentice made a complicated series of hand signals to Rej, both being trained in the pre-requisite military messaging techniques, and the poe translated the command in perfectly normal speech to Kitana –which somewhat depleted from the usefulness of the signaling-.  "You three stay here, I'll check upstairs."  Skim managed –barely- to make it up the creaking steps without waking any of the anxious cuccos, though some were awake and regarded him with wary, beady eyes.  Upon the door was emblazoned in red paint:  Employee Only.

            Skim was not about to enter a room that was for the employee only, so he politely and quietly knocked on the portal and waited for a response.  A man dressed in a nightgown with a floppy cap (the kind with a fuzzy ball attached to the end) answered, looking rather beleaguered and drowsy.  "Oh, sorry," the apprentice muttered. "Did I wake you?"  
  


            "No, no, come on in.  Bring your friends."

            The scribe's assistant shot the rest a quick thumbs-up, and upon entering the rest of the group followed with their captive in tow.  Pike had insisted on tying the young to his ankle with a cord, so that whenever he jerked his foot the boy would have to hurry.  Eventually the prisoner found out this worked both ways, and would often stop in the middle of the road, sending his captor face-first onto the ground.  The guard soon moved the cord around his waist.

            "I've laid out some sleeping rolls here, but two of you will have to spend the night in the barn.  It's just outside, see there?" pointing out the window, the man turned back to the groups.  He seemed to remember something important, for he gasped and slapped his forehead, but upon being inquired about it shook his head and smiled.

            "I'll take the barn," Skim offered, "with the prisoner."

            The Volcanian boy glanced up at him, sighed in resignation as his chances for escape slipped away.  _Trapped in a barn with a grumpy scribe's assistant_, he thought in his own language.  The rest shrugged and made their weary ways to the respective bunks.  Kalon nodded and handed Skim the barn's key before stumbling off to his own quarters.  The scribe's assistant tugged on the lead tied to the boy's waist, bringing him down the stairs and across the little road to the barn.  Hulking cows with mottled brown spots stood staring at the pair, or quietly chewed their cud.  One mooed softly at Skim, who politely returned the greeting.

            The assistant tied the leather lead around a wooden support beam, reinforced it with iron chains.  _No way that little hooligan is getting out of this one,_ he thought, and locked the door.  The pickpocket seemed to agree by the look of obvious hopelessness plastered on his round face.  Skim settled down into the hay of an unused stall and removed the small gray ocarina, examined the texture and shape.  He had seen people from Termina hawking them at the Hyrule Town marketplace, and his father had even been foolish enough to buy one once.  _Good old da', _he thought, staring at the intricate holes of the wooden instrument.  _What was that song he played during rainy days?  How did that go…_

            The apprentice put the ocarina to his lips, blowing into it.  A soft, sour note wavered out, causing the cow in the adjacent stall to perk up its ears and look blearily at him.  The bovine face reminded him for all the world of the thick guard they had begun traveling with, from the brown eyes to the dopey stare.  Skim released a chuckle while the instrument was still pressed to his mouth, causing a series of rapid notes to burst forth.  The assistant could swear the cow rolled its eyes as it looked back to its hay.  

            Finally, after a few minutes of quiet practice, Skim managed to bring back the old melody.  Two low beats, the second a bit higher than the first.  Then an even higher beat.  Repeat once.  A very high, long, warbling note, followed by a rapid succession of up-and-down beats.  He worked out the rest of the song by trial and error, until he could make it through without ruining the ears of the cow next to him.  The Volcanian boy looked up after the last run, nodded approvingly.  "No' bad, bu' ya' need tah 'ring the las' note down ah bi'."  

            The apprentice stared at him for a while, attempting to decipher the complicated string of gibberish.  After he broke the code and applied it to the proper letters, Skim followed the boy's advice by lowering the final note.  Almost immediately, there was a soft patter on the roof.  A few seconds of raps on the metal plating overhead, and then silence.  The assistant looked out the window to see the surrounding ground just barely wet by a few drops of rain, then shrugged and dismissed it as a light shower.  _Didn't see many clouds in the sky today, though_, he thought, and drifted off to sleep.

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            The next morning, the group met in the large chicken coop of the Lon Lon Milk Factory.  The cuccos were nestled quietly into the hay and more or less ignored the party of hungry, sleepy Hylians.  The prisoner remained tied to the support beam in the barn.

            "How'd you guys sleep?" the apprentice asked after completing a huge yawn.  

            "Terrible.  Some blithering imbecile with an ocarina, who obviously hadn't played in his life, kept trying to play the same Nayru-forsaken song over and over.  I was ready to strangle the fool," Kitana grumbled as she wiped collected residue from her eyes.  

            "They weren't too horrible near the end, though," Rej said as he stuck a finger into his lantern, got burned by the fireball, and took his finger out, glaring at the offending light.  

            "Oh, I, um… I didn't hear them," Skim laughed nervously.

            "Figures.  You sleep like a baby," Kitana grumped.  The assistant blushed, but it wasn't all from the baby comment.  "Let's get going, shall we?"

            "What do you propose we do with our prisoner?" the lantern-ghost asked.

            "Don't know, leave him here to work for Kalon?  He'll escape eventually, I suppose.  It should keep him out of trouble for a little while, at least," the scribe's apprentice offered.

            "Sounds good," Kalon's voice came from the top of the stairs of the chicken coop.  He was still clad in pajamas and night cap, and Skim found it slightly difficult to stop himself from bursting out into raucous laughter at the sight of the floppy hat.  "When will you all be leaving?"

            "Anxious to get rid of us, eh?"  Rej's eyes and lantern became a sneering acid green.  "We can get out of here as soon as you feed these accursed Hylians."

_(Fog:  And that's it for chapter VIII!  w00t.  Not much to say, cept'… nothing, actually.  Oh, kudos to Snowsilver for letting me use Volcanians, which are coincidentally tm-ed by her.  And yes, I asked permission, so get yer damn lawyers off me.  8D Out.)_


End file.
